Armageddon For Good
by CobaltBlue94
Summary: Faces from the past appear in the future, and they're not bearing the best of news. Buffy and Angel must team up to stop what's coming for face the consequences. First written when I was VermilionRose.  DISCONTINUED FOR NOW. EMAIL IDEAS IF YOUVE GOT ANY.
1. Prologue

Chicago**- Two Years Ago**

"Absolutely not," Buffy told her sternly.

"Come on, Buffy!" she replied, emphasizing each word with exasperation. "I'm a big girl now, and Angel just lost almost his entire team." She was arguing now, but not in the way she had before, when she was younger. "You said it yourself: he needs us. You were planning on sending someone over there anyway- why not me?"

Buffy hadn't had much to argue on. Dawn was then sixteen and she was right- Angel and Spike needed help. If there were anyone more capable than Dawn, Buffy had never met them. The only reason she had debated was because Dawn was still her kid sister.

So Dawn had packed up her bags and, with Kennedy going with her to keep an eye over her discreetly, had left Cleveland to go back to California. Angel was a good boss and a good person. He had watched over her and kept her safe, while giving her room to grow and fight "the good fight".

For Kennedy, everything had been different. Everything from the time Sunnydale was destroyed onward was harder and more difficult, and she knew that she had to do what was best. For herself, but, more importantly, for Willow.

She remembered the feeling of her stomach threatening to turn inside out and the boulder-like heaviness that had taken up residency in her heart, as she knocked on Buffy's office door in the Cleveland-house.

"Come in," she heard Buffy call from the other side of the door.

Kennedy had gone in slowly, trying not to lose her resolve on this one. Sure, she and Buffy hadn't always been best of friends, but she knew Buffy would understand this one. Hopefully.

Buffy smiled politely as her eyes met Kennedy's, and then her face grew somber as she was what was in them. "What's wrong?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"You mentioned sending a few of us to help Angel and Spike in L.A.," she had said quietly, looking at her hands.

"Don't worry, I left you off of the list," Buffy told her, her voice light again. "I wouldn't-"

"I want you to send me to Los Angeles," she heard herself say. The tears rose to the surface before she ever had a chance to stop them.

She looked up at Buffy and was met with a confused gaze. "Have you talked to Willow about this?" she asked suspiciously.

Kennedy sighed. "I think it's best if she doesn't know until the last minute. For her and for me."

Realization dawned on Buffy's face. "You're not talking about bringing Willow with you," she said solemnly.

Kennedy wouldn't let the tears fall and quickly brushed them away. She was the tough girl after all, the girl that never let them see her cry. She stood up and began pacing the study.

"She's been through so much. Losing Sunnydale like that meant losing whatever she had left of Tara and it's torn her up inside, Buffy." She cursed the way her voice was breaking, causing her to sound weak. "I can't help her. This healing thing... it's something she has to do one her own. And I think it's better if she's _on her own_ while doing it. I can't be selfish." She sat down again, looking at Buffy seriously. "I know you probably think that leaving her high and dry when she's broken and hurting _is_ selfish, but I don't think she can heal while I'm here."

Buffy was silent for a long time, processing everything that Kennedy had told her. Then she nodded, understanding. "I'll contact Angel. Dawn says she wants to go there too. I'll tell him you guys are coming. Pack up everything you'll need and if you forget anything important to you, I can send it along. Angel has rooms available. You'll take a flight out tomorrow night."

"Thank you," Kennedy replied, feeling weird thanking Buffy for something that was hurting her this bad.

She walked toward the door, but stopped when she heard Buffy's voice. "You fell for her, huh?" she asked. "The real thing."

Kennedy turned back to look at her. "Yeah, too bad it wasn't enough."

Kennedy was finishing packing her bags the night she was to leave for Los Angeles. She hadn't been able to start getting her things together until that afternoon, when Willow had left with Buffy to take down a group of something-or-others. Kennedy hadn't seen her since, but she knew that she would have to say good-bye. It wasn't right not to.

She was zipping up her suitcase, double-checking she had everything, when Willow walked into their room. Willow looked from the suitcases to Kennedy, and tried to ignore what she was seeing.

"Are you going to London to see The Watchers or something?" she asked, playing dumb.

"No," Kennedy said solemnly. "I'm...I'm gonna go help Angel and Spike in L.A. They need some help after what happened to their team." She could feel all her emotions pushing against her tear ducts. She sat down on the edge of her bed, feeling like she couldn't hold herself up very long.

"When will you be back?" Willow asked awkwardly, sitting down beside her.

"I won't."

Kennedy looked right into Willow's eyes, the same way she had that night at The Bronze when everything between them had started happening. She pulled the redhead- _her_ redhead- into her arms and rocking her slowly as she felt Willow shudder with silent sobs. This was killing her, _she_ was hurting Willow. _Her_ Willow, her beautiful, strong, sexy, smart, quirky, cute Willow with those big brown eyes and that take-your-breath-away smile and those likeable freckles.

"What did I do?" Willow cried, her tears leaking through Kennedy's shirt and onto her chest.

Kennedy knelt on her knees while Willow remained sitting on the edge of the bed. Kennedy never let go off her, not even for a second. "Nothing," Kennedy said fiercely. "Listen to me, Willow, you have done _nothing_ wrong. I just have to do what's best for you. You're dealing with so much that I can't help you with and adding me on top of everything isn't going to help. You have a past to work through, and I get that." She placed a hand on the back of Willow's head, pushing herself closer to the girl she'd fallen for, so that their foreheads touched. Kennedy gently kissed away the tears on Willow's face that were now mingling with her own. Willow seemed calmer then.

"You don't have to go," she said shakily. Willow looked at her and she almost lost her resolve. "You could stay here with me. I can work through everything and still have you here with me."

Kennedy shook her head and then kissed Willow, trying to use that one kiss to convey her feelings. Kennedy smoothed Willow's hair away from her face when they finally broke apart. "I may not be here in the physical sense, but I'm always with you. This"- Kennedy put her hand over her heart- "it belongs to you."

Then she had picked up her bags and walked out of the room.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Jillian Wyndam Pryce was still mourning the loss of her brother, while packing to fly to The States. She had her passport and suitcase in hand. Her mother knew where she was going, and she didn't give a damn about her father's opinion.

She was going to The City of Angels, to fight evil in her brother's place, and maybe make the world a little better. If her father couldn't accept that than she didn't need him.

As the planes took off for L.A., the world sensed that a new team was forming.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

There's a thing about life- you don't get second chances. Except for when The Powers That Be send you back to earth to start over on saving the world.

That was why Jillian Wyndham-Pryce, sister of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and Kennedy Pryce, plodded through the eery echoing tunnel to The Quell. Dawn Summers, her best friend and colleague at Angel Investigations, could be heard behind her and Jillian looked back whenever Dawn dropped her hands from the Londoner's shoulders.

They were supposed to be here soon.

**48 hours previously**

"Angel, this is _so_ not working!" Kennedy yelled as she came through doorway, slamming a case file onto his desk with a huff. "I've been working for you for _three years_, Fang Man, and thing's have never been this bad. In fact, the past few months have been suspiciously quiet, but now...?"

The soul-bearing vampire had heard this before. "I know, I know," he muttered, leaning back with a tired sigh. "But what would you have me do, Kenn? It's Apocalypse time, it's not that uncommon for us."

"And that makes it okay? Angel, you _need _to call Buffy, because I have a plan to stop this Armageddon," she said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

**Present**

They had never called Buffy, but that didn't mean they hadn't gone through with Kennedy's completely _insane_ plan. The Oracles hadn't been happy about being called out on the wrongful deaths of their Fallen, but Kennedy, being Kennedy, had forced their hand. Which was why Jillian scampered through the tunnels, now wondering why her sister wasn't the one retrieving them.

"This is ridiculous," Dawn muttered in annoyance, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

"No arguments here," Jillian returned, flashing a fake smile at her best friend. "If these Oracles try anything..."

"They won't," the brunette Key assured her. "They're ruthless but they're neutral and they need us to keep the Balance right now."

Jillian gave Dawn a dubious look. "I sure hope you're right, Dawnie," the blonde-haired Watcher replied.

An eerie mystical glow and hum began resonating from inside the door to the Hellmouth. The rock began cracking and Jillian hauled Dawn up and away from the door. The girls stood side-by-side, ready to fight.

"Incoming!" Jillian yelled, turning away as the door blasting open like it had been hit with dynamite.

"Cover!" she heard Dawn yell over the screaming over the sound of clattering rock.

When the dust had settled, Dawn and Jillian turned back to the glowing ethereal light.

"Now," Jillian said emphatically, "we're in business."

**-II-**

"Can I just say how ridiculous these newbie Slayers are?" Willow ranted as she strode into the kitchen, slamming a roll of sage and a jar of newt's eyes on the counter.

"Well, you could, but it'd be pretty pointless," Buffy answered, pushing her blonde bangs out of her face. "Trust me, I want things to revert back to normal every bit as much as you do, but they need to be trained."

"That's what Watchers are for!" Willow exclaimed, waving her hands dramatically. "Isn't it, Giles?" she demanded of the Englishman, who had just walked into the kitchen.

"What?" he said, clearly befuddled. "What was it that you were talking about?"

"Willow was wondering why the girls aren't being trained by their Watchers," Buffy explained calmly, as Willow went to the freezer and pulled a bag of frozen peas out. She put them on a darkening bruise.

Giles took his glasses off and began cleaning them. "Yes, well, I'm afraid that when you put the power of The Scythe into all the Potential Slayers, they greatly outnumbered us Watchers, especially after the attack on The Council" Giles explained reasonably. He looked curiously at Willow. "I thought you didn't mind having these girls around here."

"I didn't when they were Potentials, but the more Slayers we get the more crowded with vampire-obsessed girls this house becomes," Willow ranted. "I mean, we bought a house this big to fit everyone and now everyone is out-growing the house!"

Buffy looked, with some amusement, at her friend. "Will," she ordered. "Breathe." She demonstrated by breathing deeply herself. "In and out. Inhale, exhale."

"You've done a tremendous job reconstructing The Council, Will, I'm sure we'll have trained Watchers covering the growing population of Slayers soon," Giles offered. "Your students are in agreement that you shouldn't have to look after all the girls, am I right? And they are discussing a sort of schooling for them."

"Schooling?" Buffy asked skeptically. "As in taking them away from their lives and sending them to a school to become Slayers?" Willow and Giles prepared themselves for a Buffy Summers speech. "Giles, if you'd have tried to take me away from my home and my friends to become a Slayer, I never would have done well. It's them"-she gestured to Willow- "that make me strong and sane."

"I believe they will have a choice, and it's no different than leaving their lives to come here," Giles pointed out. "You were alone, Buffy, but now there are thousands of them to become friends with. Bring them to various locations for a few years and train them, then send them back and allow them to live their normal lives."

"Now _that_ sounds like something of a plan to me," Xander said, coming in through the backdoor. "Train 'em for a few years then leave 'em be. Not a bad idea."

"No, I guess it's not," Buffy agreed.

There was a knock on the door and Willow, Buffy, Xander, and Giles looked up. Setting her makeshift-ice pack down on the counter, Willow started toward the front door. Buffy following subtly behind, wondering who would ring their doorbell on a Thursday night. Unless one of the girls had gotten in trouble at school...

Willow pulled the door open and immediately fainted, but Buffy still had no idea who was behind the door.

"Will!" she exclaimed, hurrying forward. She didn't bother looking at who was at the door, instead bending to examine Willow, until she heard Xander's voice say, "Tara?" She heard another _thud_ on the floor beside her and looked over to see that Xander had dropped too.

**-III-**

Angel had looked at all his old teammates, and those who he had only known briefly. His attention had been particularly centered on Jenny Calendar, since the last time he'd seen her had been when The First had taken her form to force him to commit suicide. That Jenny had resented him. This Jenny, however, seemed hesitant but not angry with him.

He looked at Cordelia, wondering if she blamed him for her death. He should have caught her condition sooner, but he hadn't and she had died because of it. He just hoped she knew that he loved her and that he never would have let her go willingly.

In fact, the only one back-from-the-dead he didn't feel guilty about was Gunn, and that was only because Gunn had known what was happening when he had died. Gunn had known what he was getting into. He had known the risks, and still he stayed to fight.

"You know, guilt and avoidance never did look good on you," remarked a familiar voice from the door.

Angel turned in his office to face Cordy. She wore he trademark confidant smirk and Gucci boots. She hadn't aged, but somehow looked older, perhaps because of the wisdom she'd continued to retain. Even after death, Cordy was still Cordy.

"You're not much good at playing dumb either so wipe the lost look off your face," she added in regards to his faux-confused look.

He walked up to her, loosening his blue-gray tie and unbuttoning the first button of his violet shirt. His sports jacket lay abandoned over the back of his desk chair. He was tired and weary from worrying about the girls all night, and then had come home to find a voicemail message from Connor.

"Look, Cordy," Angel began, but Cordy put up a hand to stop him.

"No, you look, Angel," Cordy interrupted forcefully. "You were my best friend. You still are, actually, and I know you blame yourself for what happened to me. Fortunately, _I_ know how to put the past behind me. Do you? Because, if not, I need to know so I can snap you out of it and save Los Angeles."

Angel seemed stunned by Cordy's words of comfort, which made her feel satisfied and smug. He pulled her into a hug and she felt her warmth relax him, focus him in on what was going down and what needed to be done. Just like old times, she thought.

**-IV-**

Buffy had managed to lift Willow and carry her to the living room before having to half-drag Xander onto the couch across from their redheaded witch. She surveyed her unconscious friends for a moment before turning back to the issue at hand.

She looked like Tara, her mannerism were similar, even her air was more or less the same. _Dead,_ Buffy had to remind herself, _Tara's been dead for four years_. Tara's eyes were fixed on Willow and that was how Buffy knew for sure.

The love, the passion, the tenderness, but also the sadness and pain and longing. They were all present in Tara's eyes, the same way that had been present in Tara's eyes whenever Willow was around for months before Tara's untimely death. Buffy reached out a hand slowly with her palm facing Tara and the witch pressed her hand against the Slayer's without hesitation.

"How?" Buffy asked, astonished when her hand didn't slide through Tara's like a mirage.

"Buffy, be careful," Giles cautioned from behind the girls. "We don't know anything."

Buffy met her Watchers eyes with a certainty in her own. "This is her, Giles." The blonde looked at Tara. "This is Tara. Our Tara."

"You're certain?" Giles questioned. When Buffy nodded decisively, Giles continued, "shall we talk in the kitchen then? I believe it might be wise to give Willow and Xander a peaceful oblivion in which to process this a bit."

The three made their way into the kitchen and Tara sat down across from Giles, who kept staring at her as if he were trying to judge her transparency. Buffy turned the tea kettle on and sat down at the head of the table, on Tara's left.

"Do you know how you got here? Why you're here?" Buffy asked gently. "Not that we don't want you to be here, because believe me, we do."

"The Powers sent me," Tara explained, speaking for the first time. "They sent all of us- all of the Fallen?- to help with the battle that's coming. The others went on to Los Angeles, but I... I came here. I came home."

"How is it that you found us?" Giles questioned her, his voice now soothing and paternal as ever.

"I just _knew_, I'm not sure how," she answered, looking back and forth between the two. "Where are we anyway? Not Sunnydale." The witch looked around the house that closely resembled the Summers house in Sunnydale, but was still too different to be the same.

Again, Buffy and Giles exchanged a nervous glance. "Tara? How much do you know about... what happened after..." Buffy struggled to get the words out.

Tara placed a hand over Buffy's on the table. "It's okay, you can say it. After I died," she supplied forwardly. She breathed a sigh and sat back. "I stopped watching after Willow... well, after Proserpexa rose, I tuned out. I couldn't watch anymore." She looked back at the sleeping redhead in the living room. "I guess I shouldn't have looked away."

"You would have been proud of her," Buffy said quietly. "The First Evil wiped out the general majority of the Watchers Council, and Willow rebuilt it from the ground up with all the old Watchers' kids and some people who had little to no prior knowledge of all this. She trained them- here, New York, Canterbury- now most of the older ones are ready to hit the field."

"Yes, it's been quite some time since she's used magic in any excess," Giles added pensively. "She did, however, activate every Potential slayer so that they became slayers. After that, she rarely used it as more than a last resort or means of location. She's been very careful since she had been back from Devon."

"Devon?" Tara questioned.

"England," Buffy clarified. "There's apparently a coven there. They got rid of the majority of dark magic from her and taught her to control the magic. She visits them whenever she flies to England to teach her students." Buffy shrugged. "Between me, Willow, and Giles, we have a lot of free flier miles."

Tara seemed to be trying to process all of this as best she could. "So... how many slayers are there now?" she asked, going for the easiest thing first.

"About one-thousand-eight-hundred," Buffy replied matter-of-factly. "Next question? I'm pretty sure you have lots of them so... have at it."

"Where's Dawnie?" she continued, looking around.

"L.A.," Giles answered her. "Yes, Dawn decided to train with Angel there about three years ago. She finished out her high school career there and now she's attending the University of California in Los Angeles. She's majoring in Business Management as well as taking some, er, computer sciences." The way Giles mumbled the last part made it sound like it caused him physical pain.

"And where are we?" Tara asked evasively.

"Cleveland," Buffy answered nonchalantly. "There's another Hellmouth here, but I have girls to cover it if we need to be in LA."

Tara nodded numbly and stood up. "I think I need to walk, c-clear my head a little," she announced, as Buffy and Giles stood with her.

"I'll come with you?" Buffy questioned. "Make sure you don't get lost?" The double-meaning didn't go unnoticed by Tara, who only nodded in response.

**-V-**

"The door was open," a vaguely familiar voice yelled, sweeping in through the house.

Angel, Spike, Gunn, Wes, and Jillian bolted out of Angel's downstairs office in alarm. Each was ready for the fight. Ready to kill if necessary.

The boy who stood there though, was tall and wiry, with shaggy brown hair and expressive, hazel eyes. He wore a white t-shirt, jeans, and converse, under a leather jacket despite the heat of the day. He raised his hands in peace and smiled congenially.

"Connor, what are you doing here?" Angel asked, half-happy half-guarded. He wanted nothing more than to see his son, but this could be dangerous.

"Now, see, that there is a funny story," came an Irish brogue from the doorway.

This man had an angular face, lean physique, and dark, curly locks. His green eyes were like emeralds against the milky whiteness of his skin and his smile was prize-worthy.

"Allen Francis Doyle," Angel stated bemusedly.

"Now, ya don't sound all that surprised to see me, Angel," Doyle replied, stepping into the hotel and closing the door. He looked around the place. "Nice diggs, by the way."

"Thanks," Angel remarked stoically. "And no, I'm not surprised to see you here. I assumed you may return as well."

"Huh," Doyle simply responded. He turned to Connor, "I recognized the boy as yours. Starting fights on the East, wouldn't recommend that."

Angel looked at Connor serenely, then nodded at Doyle. He could believe it of his son, what with all of Connor's long-time restrained aggression. He was still unsure of allowing his son to stay.

"Come on, Connor," Angel said to him. "I'll drive you home."

"No way!" Connor argued. "Dad, I'm twenty years old and I wanna help." Connor's expression was one of resolve, he wasn't going anywhere and certainly not away from the action.

Angel wrestled with the idea of bringing Connor into harms way once more, especially with Cordy back and all. As far as he knew, Connor and Cordy could move past their issues, but that wasn't a guarantee.

"A lot is changing, son," Angel told him gently. "Now, I don't want to take you out of this but-"

"I can feel the change in the air, Dad," Connor explained philosophically. "I know that they're returning, because Doyle told me. I see what the streets are like, and I hear the sirens but cops can't stop these bad guys. If you won't let me fight beside you, I'll just fight in spite of you. I'll stay out of your way, but I won't stay out of the fight."

The words of his only son sunk into Angel, and he knew that Connor meant what he said. Connor was half of him, had been raised by Holtz and him, and he knew what he was doing out there. Connor was more level-headed and strategic in a fight nowadays, but he fought with the same strength and heart as before. Angel knew, in the end, he would have to watch his son fight beside him.

"Alright, you're in," Angel accepted, "but you're following _my_ orders, Connor. You're playing by the rules this time."

Connor nodded, trying to conceal a smile. "Yes, sir," he agreed.

"Welcome home, Connor," Wesley told him from behind Angel. Then he acknowledged Doyle. "You as well Mr. Doyle."

"Please, Wes," Doyle said to him casually. "Mr. Doyle was... well, you know, I'm not really sure if there's been a Mr. Doyle since my grandfather. In any case, I'm Doyle. Just Doyle. Happy to be teamin' up with ya all the same though."

This part of the conversation was lost to Jillian and Connor. Jillian, who hadn't taken her eyes off of Connor since she had seen him in the parlor, was stunned by his looks and interested in how he talked with so much conviction. Connor had noticed Jillian when Wesley had spoken to him, and had, for some reason, been unable to tear his gaze from her piercingly blue-green eyes.

This became apparent when Angel was making introductions. "Jill!" he yelled finally, trying to get her attention.

"What?" Jillian said, struggling to pulled from her subconscious what was happening outside her own mind. "Oh right," she began, suddenly remembering, "Doyle and Connor Reilly. And I'm Jillian Wyndham-Pryce. Right." She knew she was rambling stupidly, but she couldn't help it. Something inside of her had been jarred and she was having difficulty putting it back into place.

**-VI-**

They walked in silence side by side. Buffy made no move to begin conversation, but let Tara initiate it when she was ready. That was the way it had always been between the two, because Buffy had never wanted to scared Tara away. First that had been because of Willow and then because she hadn't known what she would do without the blonde Wicca who strolled beside her.

"I'm sorry," Tara said finally, her voice cracking but no tears falling.

Of all the things Buffy had expected to hear, that had not been one of them. "Why are you sorry?" Buffy asked with a tone that suggested this was the silliest thing she had ever heard. She linked an arm through Tara's.

"I was sent here to be an asset to all of you," she explained in a strained voice. "I don't feel like I can be with how confusing all of this is to me."

The Slayer breathed a breath out through her teeth. "It's a lot to take in, Tara. Honestly, if I had to do it... I don't know," she mumbled. "But I probably wouldn't be as calm about it as you are."

"I'm freaking," Tara admitted. "Just... on the inside." She thought about everything she had learned. "So, if Willow's normal again... does that mean... Did she ever... move on?"

Buffy seemed to wince inwardly. "You're the only woman she's ever loved," the blonde answered honestly. "But... there was another. Kennedy. She was one of my Potentials and she was _good_ at it. One of my best. She loved Willow but... Will just... couldn't make herself feel the same." Buffy nudged Tara gently, smirking at her. "She was always gonna love you, and Kennedy knew it. So she went to LA, and she's with Angel and Dawn now."

"And... she's good? With the magic?" Tara asked.

"Yep. She even has Giles _monitor_ her," Buffy said censoriously. "Which is completely ridiculous since she only uses magic when the situation _demands_ it and she's back into the teaching Watcher-kids and computer stuff now. She has a _plan_ for if she goes Dark and we go over it _every time_ she used any big spells and sometimes when she uses little ones. I used to think she was just cautious about it, but now it's kind of paranoia-like."

"What's her plan?" Tara asked curiously, looking at Buffy's hardened expression.

"If she goes Dark again, the plan is that anyone with a shot... kills her," Buffy said with some difficulty. She caught Tara's horrified gaze and held up her hands. "Don't worry. The only reason why I agreed to it in the first place is because she won't let that happen."

Tara nodded, but the dubious expression never left her face. "Now that I'm... I mean, does she still l-love-"

"Tara," Buffy said, her voice stern and reassuring all at once. "You will never have to worry about Willow not being in love with you. Ever. That girl hasn't been alive since the day you... died. When you died, she died with you. Now that you're back, maybe she will be too.

"Sweetie, she's been going through her life the best she can without you," the Slayer said. "She's kind of a workaholic. She'll spend a few months in England, a few months in New York, then she'll come back here and stay stuck up in her study for days on end. Sometimes it scares me, how much we've lost of her."

Buffy had never voiced these fears to anyone but Giles, not even Xander, who she was sure had the same fears. She knew that nobody could ever understand how much this scared her, because no one loved and relied on Willow the way that she always had. Will was her best friend in the world and she had lost Tara and Willow in one fell swoop. Things had never been the same since, and she was pretty sure that that was why Dawn had decided to make a fresh start in LA.

**-VII-**

Willow's head hurt, her mouth was dry, and her body ached all over. It was her heart that caused her the most pain, the memory of her dream. A dream in which the one and only love of her life- her soulmate- had been standing in the doorway, looking at her with loving gentleness but also fear and sorrow in those ice blue orbs. She had never before had a dream of Tara that had felt so real.

Her eyes popped open just to make sure that the last four years hadn't just been some terrible dream, but they were in the house that was painfully reminiscent of the house in Sunnydale but so obviously a forgery of it. They were in Cleveland, Willow was Head of the Watchers' Council, Buffy ran a training program for the thousands of slayers that _she_ had awoken, Xander had a glass eye, Anya was dead. Life was miserably different.

She got to her feet, suddenly so unmotivated that every movement she took to get up was like a sharp knife piercing into her chest and abdomen. Willow pushed messy red locks out of her face, locks that were longer and straighter and darker than they had been back then, as she staggered toward the kitchen and heard the gentle hum of Buffy's and Giles's voices. It was a warm sound, one that made the witch feel safer, but the warmth hardly touched beneath the surface. She was still cold and always would be.

"You feeling any better, Will?" Buffy asked her, noticing Willow standing in the doorway and staring at them listlessly.

Willow dropped into Tara's vacated seat and vaguely noticed that the seat was still warm and a shower was running somewhere in the house. She just sighed and slumped forward, reaching her hand out to her best friend and hoping Buffy would take it without questions. Then the tears fell from her eyes and she had to stand up, brushing at them furiously.

"I should get to work. Fisher and Melnicove should have e-mailed me those portfolios by now, and if Foller hasn't set me those reports on the West Coast school..." Willow shook her head, her voice cracking slightly. "I'll be in my office, if anybody needs me."

Buffy looked at Giles in surprise as Willow disappeared up the stairs. "She doesn't remember?" the Slayer questioned.

"I might have thought it was a dream," Giles responded solemnly. "That would explain the teary eyes."

"Yeah. I guess I wouldn't believe it either, if I were her," Buffy admittedly sadly. "But she's gonna get a shock when she comes face-to-face with Tara again. And she will... at some point."

Giles took his glasses off and looked at Buffy paternally. "It will iron itself out in time, Buffy," he told her. "The best you and I can do is to be support of the both of them, and let Willow come to terms with Tara's being alive in her own time."

They heard a crash as Xander fell unconscious to the floor once more.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-

In her heart, Willow knew that she hadn't imagined Tara's appearance, but, logically, she knew that it was impossible. That Tara was dead and she was alone, that she would be alone until The Powers decided whether she belonged in Heaven or Hell and inevitably decided on the latter. All she could do was focus on training new Watchers and doing what good she could in the present, and that meant going over paperwork and student profiles.

After the First's attack on The Watchers' Council, very few Watchers had been left and, with the greatly increased number of slayers, that was quickly becoming a very serious problem. That was probably why Giles, one of the very few Watchers left with his life, had finally approved her plan for spreading the facilities out. The East Coast had been covered for years, needless to say, as was England. Now they were working on a Watchers' school in the West Coast and planning for one in Canada. This was what had had Willow's undivided attention for several weeks now, which was probably why she didn't notice someone standing in her doorway.

**-II-**

"Buff, you do know how incredibly psych ward-worthy you sound right now, right?" Xander demanded. He turned to the Watcher. "Giles, come on. Tell me this is some kind of sick prank, because otherwise..."

Giles stood and set a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "I'm afraid this is no joke, Xander, although it is quite a concept to wrap the mind around," he admitted, taking his glasses off of his face and peering through them. "I think it's crucial that we get to Los Angeles as soon as possible."

Xander sat down, and deflated. "Whoa." He looked up at the two with worry in his eyes. "But... I mean, Will. How's she gonna take this?" he asked.

"We're not really sure," Buffy confessed in a small voice. "Honestly," she added, standing up and beginning to pace, "I'm not sure who I'm more worried about finding out: Willow or Dawn."

"Dawn," Xander repeated, looking up in realization. "Oh God. I passed out-"

"Fainted," Buffy interjected mercilessly.

"_Passed out_, when I saw her," Xander continued. "Dawn was really close to Tara."

"We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it, I'm afraid," Giles said with finality.

They all heard a loud sound coming from the upper floor.

"I think that's bridge is coming up on us, Giles," Buffy said as they all bolted for the staircase.

**-III-**

She was more beautiful than Tara remembered, but Tara could also see the worry creases in Willow's face and the tension the girl carried in her shoulders. It made the blonde witch wonder how her redhead could put herself through it all, but reminded herself that this was Willow. _Her_ Willow.

Unsure, unsteady, and throughly and irrevocably in love, Tara stared at the beautiful redhead who was working so diligently. Part of her was still afraid of the Willow she had seen before in the Above, but the more dominant part of her was so proud of everything Willow had done since then that it made Tara love her more.

"Look at you, Will," she had meant for it to be a whisper to herself, but instead it came out clear and loud in the silence.

Willow jumped at hearing the voice, but jumped back into the wall with a loud CRASH! as soon as she saw Tara. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," the redhead repeated like a panicked mantra.

The repercussions of showing herself to Willow when the redhead had been alone hadn't crossed Tara's mind in the romantic haze that Willow always brought into her head. She realized her mistake though, just as Buffy, Giles, and Xander sprinted into the room. Buffy looked around wildly, taking account of the situation before walking over to her best friend.

"C'mon, Will," she coaxed the other woman carefully. "It's okay, I've got you." Buffy helped Willow to her shaky legs.

Eyes never leaving Buffy, Willow murmured, "I see her, Buffy." Sobs wracked Willow's body. "I keep seeing her everywhere, but she's dead and I'm alone. I'm all alone."

A tiny laugh escaped Buffy's mouth. "Will," she chuckled, "Tara's _right there_." In a more serious tone Buffy explained, "Something big is coming, Will, and the powers sent Tara and others back to us to stop it. She gets a second chance, a clean slate, some kind of rebirth-y thingy." Buffy looked at Tara and held out the hand that wasn't holding onto Willow's.

Tara stepped forward and took Buffy's hand, allowing the Slayer to calmly place Willow's in hers. It wasn't until then that Willow looked up and Tara could see the green pools that were her love's eyes.

"If this is a dream..." Willow began, "please don't let me ever wake up. If this is a dream, just let me stay here dreaming, forever."

The blonde-haired Wicca couldn't help the hand that rose to Willow's beautiful, freckled cheek. "You're not dreaming, darling. I promise you, there's nothing to wake up from. I'm right here," she assured her love.

"But- but... how?" she asked nervously. "I mean, this-this isn't possible. Not without some serious ramifications."

It made Tara's heart ache and soar at the same time to hear Willow so worried about disrupting the natural order of things. It was all in her emerald eyes, Willow now recognized the laws of magic and abided by them. What did that mean the redhead thought of her though?

"The Powers That Be control the natural order of life," she explained softly, running the backs of her fingers against the smooth of Willow's cheek. "It wasn't a re-resurrection, more like a renewal. For a greater common purpose- to stop what's coming. The others are in LA already."

Willow looked past her to Buffy with wide, horrified eyes. "Angel," she muttered hurriedly, stumbling to her feet. "We have to call Angel, he'll know what's going on."

Her slender fingers pulled the receiver from the cradle and tapped a pattern on the keys. Her foot drummed against the floor impatiently before her call started and Willow was unsurprised when Kennedy's voice echoed through the phone lines.

"Angel Investigations, we help the helpless," the slayer's voice came distractedly. "This is Kennedy, how can I help you?"

Hitting the speaker key, Willow set the phone back in its place. "Kennedy, is there something we should know?" she demanded redolently. Out of the corner of her eye, Willow saw Tara start at the sound of Kennedy's name. _Guess that secret's been spilled_, she thought dolefully.

"Umm... hey, Will," Kennedy answered in that same distracted tone. "Now's not exactly a great time."

"Kennedy, what the hell is going on in LA right now?" Buffy chimed in commandingly.

There was a long pause before anything was said, then they all heard Kennedy's sigh. "Tara's standing right there, isn't she?" the lower-ranking slayer asked knowingly. "I was afraid that might happen but would Angel listen to me? _No!_"

"Yeah, I'm still waiting on the answer to my previous question, Kenn," Buffy reminded her pointedly. "What the hell is happening on your end?"

Willow could practically _hear_ Kennedy rubbing her face vigilantly. "Things have gotten... dangerous... here in LA. Dangerous to the point where I tried to convince Dawn to go home to Cleveland, but... well, you know her. Anyway, there was a still for awhile- demonic levels were at a blissfully all-time low- and then things started getting bad," Kennedy relayed. "I wanted to cal you guys sooner, I really did, but Angel wanted to keep you out of it for as long as we could. Now... well, I guess our time is up."

"It mostly certainly is, Kennedy," Giles scolded her. "What were you thinking? Waiting this long to call us is just so... unlike you. Normally you would have updated us long ago."

There was a deafening silence for awhile, the tension palpable even through phone lines. "A lot has changed, Giles," she answered, sounding much older than she was. "I see people getting killed everyday and there usually isn't much I can do to stop it. A new Hellmouth has formed in Los Angeles, and I'm not sure how or why, but it has. They're planning something, something I'd much rather fill you in on in person."

"Silence of the lambs," Xander remarked bitterly. Another long pause ensued and then, "Kennedy?"

Another sigh came before Kennedy replied, "Yes, Xander?"

Xander's face darkened visibly. "Do me a favor? Don't tell Dawn about Tara, okay? It might... be a bit of an overload for her," he explained solemnly.

"Why do you think I answered the phone before she could when I saw your number? Guys, I know what this is gonna mean to Dawn, and I don't want her in anymore of a panic than the rest of you," Kennedy answered. "She's doing well here, by the way. She's careful and she's smart about all of this. She keeps us smart too. A key player, ironic isn't it?"

"I'll call up the airlines," Willow announced abruptly, clearing her throat. "We'll be in LA soon, just... stay out of trouble and don't let anyone get hurt."

"You know I won't, if I can help it," the junior slayer returned. "Be careful, you guys. A storm is coming." With a click, Kennedy was gone and Willow was turning off the phone.

Willow leaned against the front of her desk, looking at the other Scoobies. "I hate demons," she said matter-of-factly. Then she looked at Giles, her face placid and expressionless. "I need to get a few things before we leave, I'll call the airlines on the way out. I won't be back late." Willow grabbed her jacket and strode toward the door, only looking back to say, "Stay here. Stay together. Stay safe," before leaving.

As soon as Willow had disappeared, Tara felt like something inside of her had shattered.

**-IV-**

Jillian stood there with Connor, waiting for Dawn to come back down the stairs. When she did, Jill swore she'd never seen her best friend so frazzled. Her expression was that of someone who was extremely annoyed and in dire need of caffeine.

"Yeah, let's just gather the whole _freaking_ world into the Hyperion," she grumbled, more to herself. "Great idea! Go to Oracles who will send down the souls of our dead friends to make the corporeal and fight the stupid Underworld when they would much rather be sipping martinis in heaven."

Jillian smiled reassuringly at Connor, hoping he didn't think Dawn was crazy. He didn't seem to bothered, but amusement was written on his ever feature. She liked a guy who could laugh politely at her neurotic friend.

"It _is_ getting more crowded in here," he spoke up.

Dawn turned around then, catching Connor's gaze. For a split second, she was afraid Dawn was going to fall for him too and then he'd be off-limits, but instead she shrugged. "It's always busy and stuff," she answered casually, "but we have a whole task force in here now."

"It'll probably get worse though," he mentioned, grinning. He was honest and Jillian liked that.

She nodded. "Definitely," she agreed. She turned to Dawn, "I think we should hit Caritas tonight."

"I thought Caritas was destroyed?" Conner interjected.

Jillian and Dawn shook their heads. "Lorne rebuilt it when he came back to L.A.," Dawn explained. "He doesn't really want any part in The Fight, but he'll help if he _absolutely_ has to. Right now, we just go see him for info and to blow off steam."

"Cool," Connor breathed, looking at his two new friends. He was finally beginning to feel like he belonged somewhere.

**-V-**

"You're sure about this?"

Kennedy didn't turn away from packing to face Angel, afraid that he would see the fear in her face. She didn't need to pack much; food, ammo, weapons, flashlight, first aid, etc. Her mind was on rescue mode now, just thinking of getting Down There, getting Faith, and getting back.

"Angel, she's been missing for almost a month now. Besides, Spike, Doyle, and Gunn all volunteered," she responded mechanically. It was better if she started detaching now, before she had to say goodbye to them.

Jillian and Dawn had been so angry with her.

"_Are you insane?_" Dawn had demanded of her. Then, more calmly, she had said, "_There's no reason to go to Hell and get yourself killed!_"

Jillian hadn't really been able to stay much of anything. She just stood there looking lost and helpless, knowing she couldn't convince Kennedy not to go, but not wanting her to risk her life. She stood there numbly listening to Dawn chew Kennedy out for being stupid.

"_Listen guys, we gotta get Faith back_," Kennedy had told them. "_She's one of us, you know. A Slayer. And she was one of The Originals. I have to know what happened to her, save her if I can._"

"_And if you can't?_" Jillian had asked.

"_Well, then I'll know and I'll come home,_" Kennedy answered simply, putting her arms around Jillian. "_I'll be careful, and it's forty-eight hours. Just two days. I'll be fine._"

She had believed that when she'd told the girls, but now she was shaky with anticipation. It was finally setting in what she was doing. She was going to Hell to retrieve someone who could very well be dead.

"Kenn," Angel sighed, not relishing having to talk to Kennedy like she was a kid. She looked at him, waiting for him to say something that would stop her, but there wasn't anything. Kennedy was doing this no matter what. "Did you even tell Buffy about this?"

"Angel, I know that this is dangerous and I didn't consult you about it beforehand, but I need you to promise me something," she told him seriously, avoiding his question. He nodded, and she continued, "I understand the risk of what I'm doing. I could die. A-and if I do, I need you... to make sure Jillian is taken care of."

"Kennedy," Angel began, "Wesley-"

"Wesley is her big brother, Angel, he looks at her like she's a little kid," Kennedy reasoned. "She's not a little kid anymore, and she's very capable. But still... you'll live forever. Now, I'm not asking you to take her in because you've already taken us _both_ in. I just need to know that someone is looking out for her." She looked at Angel's grim and torn face. "Please," she begged, "Angel, she's my younger half-sister. Half of Wesley, but half of me too. Please."

Angel looked at the woman who had been his right-hand for the last two years. Ever since Wesley, Fred, and Gunn had died, she had been the one he relied on. In a way, she had kind of taken the place of Cordy, with her heart and her bravery, the way that she always made him talk about the things that bothered him and consoled him. No one could replace Cordy, but that had been the sort of role she played, while taking care of Dawn and Jillian and even Nina, Spike, and him.

"I promise you that if anything ever happened to you, I would look after Jillian," he told her sincerely. "But nothing's going to happen to you. You're coming back."

"I know, I just..." she trailed off, choking up. "Those two girls and this team are my life. I want to know that if any happens, you'll all be okay."

Angel paused. "We wouldn't be much without you, Kenn," he told her. "But we'd make it work."

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. "I should get down there," she breathed. "You know, work to do and all."

**-VI-**

Willow felt bad for having left Tara right away like she had, but there was a very pressing matter on her mind and she needed to clear her thoughts. She had to be careful around Tara because too much had happened to Willow for her to be her still and Tara was too precious to risk hurting. Willow would die before anything bad happened to Tara ever again.

So she knew she was playing with fire when she knocked on the door of Tara's room, ignoring the gaggles of girls who looked at her peculiarly. The bags that weighed down her arms seemed heavier by the moment, but nothing felt as heavy as her heart anymore.

Tara's bright, quirky smile met her when the door opened and Willow could feel herself blushing. "I, um, I'm sorry I ran out earlier," she apologized quickly. She gestured to the shopping bags by lifting her arms. "I figured you would need some things before we left. Tomorrow morning, we're leaving tomorrow morning. I know it's kind of sudden."

"No, no that's fine," Tara replied as she stood aside to let Willow in. "Here, I'll take some of those for you." The blonde witch grabbed a few of the bags, noting that the clothes looked a lot like her style. The things she had worn in her first life and wondered how Willow had remembered.

Willow set the remaining bags down and stood awkwardly in the room, until Tara pointed her into a chair by the window. The blonde perched herself on the edge of her bed and looked at Willow hesitantly.

"You know," Willow spoke up eventually. "Everything I did after you died, and about Kennedy." The redhead sighed heavily, playing with her hands. "So, whatever your reaction is... I'm ready for it. I can take it."

Part of Tara was shocked by the words from Willow's mouth, but her logical half knew that this was Willow. The old Willow- the one Tara had fallen in love with. The Willow she remembered more clearly would have avoided the subject, tried to hide it from her, but this Willow didn't. This Willow took responsibility for her actions and faced up to her loved ones' reactions.

The blonde clasped Willow's hands tightly in hers and looked into the redhead's eyes. "I missed you so much, Willow," she said. Tara brought Willow's hands to her lips and kissed them gently. "Everything you've done, everything you plan to do... it's incredible and it's beautiful and it's _you_. The real you, that you that I love with all my heart, Will. You're her again."

"But I'm not," Willow argued, turning her face away from Tara's. "I killed someone. A human someone. You can't come back from that. Tara, I'm a murderer."

**-VII-**

Faith staggered, unable to keep moving but somehow managing to anyway. She'd known all along that this was a suicide mission, one that couldn't lead to anything good. Black Ops weren't exactly her favorite, but she'd done it for Angel and the team. Mostly because lately she'd been feeling like this was where she belonged. Hell.

She felt the searing pain as she fell to the ground, skinning her hands, forearms, and shins. She looked at her tattered jeans that became more and more threadbare the longer she was here. Out of food, out of water, medical supplies lost, and too weak to carry a pack anyhow, Faith knew that she was slowly dying down here. No one was coming to save her, or even if they did, they would never reach her in time.

She was as good as gone.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3-

In no uncertain terms had it been an uneasy night for Willow. She had tucked Tara in after their 'conversation' and stayed with the blonde until she'd fallen asleep. Then she took some of Tara's clothes and went back to her own room to pack their bags for the next morning.

She hadn't expected anyone to be up. It was past midnight after all, and there were no baddies depriving them of their sleep, but Buffy was still waiting for her when she entered her room.

"You disappeared," the Slayer said. "I got worried."

Willow smiled to herself. "You're always worried, Buff, it's nothing new."

Buffy gave her an especially concerned look. "Will... about Tara," Buffy began. "You need to give her a chance. You can't block her out- a love like yours doesn't just go away."

The redhead sighed, rubbing her face in exhaustion. "What if I hurt her?" Willow demanded.

"What if you don't?" Buffy countered smoothly. She stood up and took both of her best friend's hands in hers. "Will, I love you and I believe in you. Tara has been here less than twenty-four hours and she already believes in you. Now you need to believe in yourself, because if you don't? You'll wind up hurting her by pushing her away."

Green eyes filled with tears of frustration. "I want to be with her, Buffy," Willow said. "More than anything, but... she's Tara. And I don't know how to be Willow anymore. I lost myself when I lost her."

Buffy sat down next to Willow on the edge of her bed. "Then let Tara help you find yourself, Will," Buffy encouraged her. "She always was better at keeping track of things than either of us."

Willow laughed, leaning her head against Buffy's shoulder. "So I leap and hope like hell I don't hurt her?" the redhead asked with uncertainty.

"No," the Slayer said, "you ease into it, help each other, and you _won't_ hurt her. That girl who took Tara's memories? Will, she's long gone. She grew up. She single-handedly rebuilt the Council of Watchers and became the Head of it, while being co-operator of Slayer Central, _without_ magic. You did that, Will." Buffy squeezed Willow around the shoulders. "Just something to keep in mind." The Buffy left.

**-II-**

"Maybe it's better if we get them from the airport," Jillian suggested to Angel.

He looked at them blankly, as if he didn't quite understand. "Why?" he demanded irritably.

"Because, if you go out now you'll turn into a crispy critter," Dawn put it plainly. "Angel, the sun doesn't set for another eight hours."

The vampire slammed his hands down onto the table. "Listen, if got _your_ sister"- he looked at Jillian- "wander through hell with a band of Doyle, Gunn, and Spike as back-up," he snapped, then he turned to Dawn. "And now _your_ sister, is going to be stepping off a plane and demanding what the hell is going on."

"Be nice," Nina reminded him as she came into the office. She picked up a phone and began dialing, but look up at the trio. "They're right, Angel, you're a little too flammable to go out at noon. Let them handle it."

"Nina, they're teenagers!" Angel argued.

"Uh, but _we're_ not," came Cordelia's voice from the door. The former-cheerleader gestured between herself and Jenny Calendar. "And we're not vampires either. Power in numbers, Angel, we'll go with them for back-up. They'll be okay."

Angel growled and turned around, muttering to himself, "this is what I get for working with women."

**-III-**

Buffy could feel her stomach twisting into knots as the plane began its descent. Xander gripped her one hand while Willow gripped her other, all of their knuckles had long since turned bone white. She gave Giles what must have been the thousandth reassuring look as her shot her yet another questioning one.

"Do you think Dawnie'll be excited to see us?" Xander asked excitably. "I mean, she didn't come home for Christmas last year, so we haven't seen her." He paused thoughtfully. "You don't suppose she's mad us, do you?"

"But we haven't done anything," Willow answered as the plane touched ground. "I mean, maybe we did something... but Dawnie would have told us. She tells us what's bothering her now, _whatever_'s bothering her."

Buffy sighed at her friends, squeezing their hands. "She's fine. Kennedy said she was fine," the blonde told them. "I believe in. Dawn's a big girl now, she takes good care of herself."

The three of them, Giles, and Tara stood up and collected their things, wanting to get off the plane as quickly as possible. The Cleveland to LA flight had been long and worrisome and all any of them really wanted was to get to the bottom of things.

They all seemed to notice Dawn at the same time. The youngest Summers came flying at them like a brunette bullet, despite the fact that she was going on twenty now. It was Buffy and Willow who caught the collision first.

"Eek! I love you guys!" she exclaimed, embracing them tightly.

"We, er, love you too, Dawnie, but we can't breathe," Willow choked out. Immediately Dawn let go of her and the redhead stared at her with a grin. "Jeez, Dawn, when did you get so strong? And did you grow another inch? I told you not to grow anymore inches."

Dawn laughed and gave her another, softer hug. "I don't know if I grew, I've been drinking lots of coffee though," she offered happily.

Willow gave her a stern face. "That's my girl," she said.

The rest of the group then noticed Dawn's companions. Cordelia and Jenny stared at the Scoobies with wide-eyed hesitation.

"Dear Lord," Giles remarked suddenly, causing them all to jump.

Then Dawn's eyes finally landed on the woman hiding behind Giles. In the blink of and eye, Dawn had shot forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Tara. "Oh God, it's you," Dawn cried. "It's actually-" Dawn broke off and looked back at her best friend. "Did Kennedy tell you about this?"

Jillian's flushed face told them the answer. "I'm not at liberty to discuss the information my sister discloses to me," Jillian said in a business-like fashion. She walked toward Willow and gave her a hug, "Nice to see you, Miss Rosenberg."

Buffy pouted. "Um... how come Dawn's BFF knows Willow, but doesn't know me?" she demanded, glaring at her sister with her hands on her hips.

"Well, um, Jillian was my student for about a year before she took off for LA," Willow explained. "And she's also Kennedy's little sister. And Wesley's."

"It's complicated," Jillian offered.

"What's even more complicated is what's waiting for us back at the hotel," Jenny broke in. "Which is where we need to go before our day-walking friends decide to turn us into bait."

"Ms. Calendar?" the three Scoobies asked in surprise, finally noticing her.

"I know," Cordelia put in, "I was kinda shocked too."

**-IV-**

"It's old and kind of low-key," Dawn explained as she unlocked the door of the Hyperion. "That's a good thing around here though."

"And we cleared all the ghosts out, so that problem is fixed," Cordelia added with a smile.

The four led the group into the hotel. Only Willow had been there before and even she noticed the changes. It was lighter, more airy and more like home. These were definitely improvements.

"I'm home!" Dawn called out to whoever in the house could hear her.

Angel walked out of his office with Connor following cautiously on his heels. He looked at the group, smiled, then turned to Dawn. "I'm glad, we were beginning to worry about you," he remarked.

"And by 'we' he means _he_ was worried about you," Connor interjected from behind him. "I had every faith that you two and Cordy and Ms. Calendar could get them safely here from the airport."

Dawn didn't miss the glare Angel cast his son's way after his comment, but he turned back to them smiling graciously. "Connor Reilly, this is Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Rupert Giles, and Buffy Summers," Angel began introductions. He turned to Tara, "And I don't believe we've met?"

"I myself would like to know just what is going on here, Angel," Giles cut across Angel. "Tara has been dead for four years. W_hy_ is she back and _how_?"

Angel sighed. "We can't start the meeting until everyone is back and everyone will not be back until Kennedy comes back with the team," Angel disagreed. "But make yourselves at home," he added to The Scoobies.

The group dispersed as Dawn led The Scoobies up to the second floor where they'd be staying. Angel turned back, heading toward the library where he knew the rest of the team were, when Jillian stopped him.

"Angel," Jillian said to him. "Are you going to tell Buffy about Faith?"

Angel nodded. Looking to the staircase, he found Willow had stopped there, listening with a quizzical stare at Jillian. When she saw him look, she continued her way up the stairs.

**-V-**

"You have been called back for a very specific reason," Angel began, looking down the long table at nineteen faces staring at him. "A few days ago, I had Kennedy and Jillian go to The Oracles, because none of you were meant to die. Your deaths could easily have been avoided and yet they happened-"

"So we basically asked them to hit the restart button on your lives," Jillian interrupted, tired of Angel's rambling speech. She gestured out the window and continued, "because what's happening out there, is looking apocalyptic."

"Not your regularly scheduled apocalypse either," Nina added. She stood up from where she was sitting and gestured to the drawing room board, motioning for Wesley to turn on the projector. "We've been following the movements of some pretty big players in the Underground," she said, as the slides of their recent Big Bads flipped through. "Now, normally, they'd try to stay out of each others' way, you know, so they wouldn't be fighting one another for the crown down there. Except for they aren't staying away from each other and they're not fighting each other."

"It's a convergence," Connor said aloud, connecting the dots. "They're trying to, what? End the world together? That doesn't make sense." He turned his head to give Jillian a worried and confused look.

"We don't think they're trying to end the world," Dawn cut in. "We think they're trying to end _us_, to end everything Good in the world." She tried to look at Connor in a friendly, encouraging way, but his stare was so piercing that she was almost afraid to.

"They're trying to flip the Balance," Jenny Calendar gasped.

Everyone noticed the way Giles looked at her, like someone who had found something long-lost and precious. Buffy couldn't help but smile despite her own discomfort at being stuck in a seat beside Angel.

There were so many relationships going on in the room. Jenny and Giles, Buffy and Angel with Cordelia somehow in the mix, Xander who kept staring at Cordelia oddly, and Wesley with his worried and forlorn look.

"Okay, so how are we receiving our information?" Cordelia inquired, her forehead creased with the seriousness of the situation.

"We've got eyes and ears countering every angle possible, Cordy," Angel explained, "but there's only so much we can do. Lorne's got surveillance at Caritas, Faith ventured Down There somewhere but we lost a tracer on her about a week ago and haven't heard anything since."

"That's where she went?" Buffy demanded. "I've been trying to contact her for days and she's been working under _you_? Angel!"

"Buff, ease off a little," Xander warned, watching the crowd carefully. "You know that Faith does what Faith wants to do."

Jillian, taking account of the situation, stood up. "Listen, Faith was keeping tabs on the situation. We didn't know she'd gone down until a friend of ours, Nina, picked up the trace on her," she was trying to sound calm, but her face was giving her away. "What's most likely is that she went in too deep for anything to pick up her signal. Towers don't generally pick things up from Hell."

"Kennedy took a team down there. Gunn, Doyle, and Spike," Dawn explained. "Now, personally, I think she's insane, but that's Kennedy. The point is, _someone_ went down after her. They'll see what they can find, if they can find Faith, and they'll bring her back if they do."

The group was silent, some stricken by Kennedy's brash bravery, some just trying to process the information they'd been given, some too shocked to speak. Giles and Wesley simultaneously took off their glasses and cleaned them. Willow avoided Tara's gaze even more carefully. Buffy, Xander, Jenny, and Connor were speechless. The rest were unsurprised, though worried.

"How long have you known?" Buffy asked in a dangerously low voice.

Angel grimaced, knowing the question was aimed at him. "A few months," he answered honestly. Sugar-coating couldn't help them now, they had to be up-front or they would die.

Buffy stood up suddenly, slamming her hands down on the table. "You mean to tell me that you have known this was coming for a few _months_ and you never said _anything_?" She screamed, unable to control her temper any longer.

"Buffy," Willow began.

"No, Willow!" She yelled at her friend, and then rounded on Angel again. "You put _my_ friends, not to mention my own _sister_, in danger and you didn't even have the decency to pick up the phone and say that until _now_? What the hell kind of operation are you running here, Angel?"

Dawn shot up so that Buffy was caught off-guard between her and Angel. "Good God, Buff, will you shut up? It wasn't Angel's fault!" she gestured to Angel. "I'm a big girl down, and I think I've proven that I can handle myself, plus we've all been looking out for each other."

"Dawn, stay out of it!" Buffy yelled at her, totally losing it now. "This isn't your fight! The world is ending and I for one-"

Buffy was cut off abruptly but a loud, sharp whistle. Everyone turned to look at Cordelia. "Guys, this isn't helping anything," she started with contempt. "Buffy, you're right. The world, as we know it, is crumbling around us. Maybe Angel could have made the decision to call you and us and everyone together sooner, and maybe that would have been better, but what's done is done. We can't go back or change it."

"Cordy's right," Willow said quietly to them all. "Things are bad, but we are where we are and sitting around, arguing with each other about stupid stuff we can't change isn't going to get us anywhere. If we want to make things better, we have to get over it and move on, otherwise we'll stand still while the situation out there gets worse."

Everyone was silent once more, thinking about this and quietly agreeing. Willow's eyes finally flitted to Cordelia. Cordy winked at her and smiled, before Willow noticed the look of shock that Xander was casting at them both, his head moving from one to the other in a comical way.

"So, I suppose the question is," Giles said reasonably, "where do we start?"

"We've already started with sending a team down to make sure Faith is okay, starting from where the tracer got cut off," Dawn explained. "Kennedy and the others took off down there. They'll look for her and be back in no more than forty-eight hours. It'll be dangerous and tricky, but if we can find her, she might have an answer."

The group nodded in agreement. Angel smiled politely at everyone around the table, and then said, "meeting adjourned."

**-VI-**

Angel enjoyed the silence of working in his office. He went over old case files, trying to match anything involving their new Big Bads with any of their old cases. Cordy was better at this than him, which was why she had been doing it for ten hours before him. Unfortunately, she was human and needed sleep to continue functioning properly.

Wesley, Giles, Jenny, Willow, and Tara had migrated to the library, Xander was catching up on sleep, and Buffy was training with Jillian, Dawn, and Connor in the basement. Everyone was safe and content for the time being, he'd put Wesley in charge of monitoring Kennedy's movements, and he had little to worry about. Still, he was always worrying.

"Late night?" Buffy asked from the doorway.

He looked up, a bit startled, but quickly regaining composure. "Uh, yeah, just trying to link anything we've previously come up against to our Convergence Guys," he informed her.

They looked at each other, and both knew that a silent pact to not talk about the recent events had been made.

"Any luck?" she asked, coming closer slowly.

He scoffed, dropping his head then bringing it back up to look at her. "Not a bit," he told her honestly. "How's Connor fairing against The Slayer?"

"Pretty good, he's got incredible reflexes,"she commented. "Forceful, observant, watches for weaknesses, patient, great stamina. Reminds me of you." She laughed, realizing the other way that could be taken.

"He's a pretty remarkable young man," Angel agreed. Then he turned bitter, "No thanks to me. Holtz raised him, then the Reillys raised him. I never really had much of a part in it."

"He must still feel some loyalty to you," Buffy pointed out. "He's here after all." She paused, searching his face for agreement. Then she changed the subject. "Kennedy and Dawn seemed to be doing well here. And you've been training Dawn, I see. Her fighting is... way above any I've seen from a normal human-being."

"I had to train Cordelia," Angel told her, chuckling slightly. "Dawn was much easier to teach. She seemed to enjoy it too, being trained directly and sparring. She's got good instincts." He paused. "Reminds me of you."

"I'm pretty proud of her," Buffy admitted graciously. "You know, after mom died I wasn't sure if I could raise her to be the type of person I knew she was capable of." Buffy sighed. "In all honesty, it did have much to do with me-"

"What do you mean 'it didn't have much to do with you'?" Angel demanded incredulously. "Have you seen the way she watches you, idolizes you, looks to be more like you? I swear, sometimes I look at her and I see small bits of you shining through." Angel cleared his throat, pausing uncomfortably. "Although, she still struggles with being The Key. It means she wasn't born, but created. She believes it means she isn't human, but I don't like I've ever met anyone more human than Dawn Summers."

Buffy sighed, knowing Angel was right. "I know," she admitted. "Ever since she's known she's The Key, that she's energy put into a human form, that she wasn't born my little sister...? She battles it everyday. I just don't know how to make her see that she _is_ human, she _is_ my sister. I struggle with it too, I guess."

Angel looked at Buffy piercingly, like he was looking right through her. Buffy held her ground, staring back blankly. "There's nothing you can do, Buffy," he told her. "It's something she has to come by on her own."

Looking at him the way she knew she was, Buffy accepted what Angel said as the truth. Much as she wanted to show Dawn the world, lately she'd been trying to allow Dawn to explore it on her own. Maybe that included finding her place and maybe... even herself.

**-VII-**

"I'm sorry about what I said before."

Tara looked up to see Willow standing in her doorway, her expression indistinct and her eyes sad and tired. A daydream came to Tara quickly, one of her rushing forward and kissing Willow with as much passion as just a kiss could convey... and then maybe conveying more to her. She shook off that fantasy as quickly as it had come to her, knowing the impossibility of it.

"I just want you to be happy, Tara," Willow told her in a sigh. "And, if I'm still what makes you happy..." the redhead paused for a moment. "You were always it for me. I couldn't ever love anyone else because I loved you. Because"- Willow took a step forward with a shaky breath- "I _knew_ it was you were the one, and I was content to wait for death so I could be with my one again." She took Tara's hands lightly. "I need to be with you, Tara. But... I also need to ease into it, to take every step cautiously, because I love you and I want this to last. Forever."

"Okay," Tara replied slowly. "Just please tell me that I can still..." her voice trailed off as she unintentionally leaned in and brushed her lips against Willow's. When she opened her eyes, it was to see her love smiling brightly.

"See, now you made me want to do that again," Willow complained playfully.

"Mmm," Tara hummed in response. "Then why don't you?"

It was like she'd been given her soul back, and Willow could slowly feel it returning to her body as she kissed Tara. She knew Tara's mouth down to the last millimeter, but it had been so long that to kiss her was the only way to remember. Tara's lips, Tara's taste, her scent, her sweetness, the way she always played with the red hair at the nape of Willow's neck as they kissed. It was all familiar and beautiful.

"I love you," Tara whispered when they had no choice but to break apart. Her lungs burned and her heart was hammering so hard she was sure Willow could feel it.

The redhead lifted Tara's hand to her chest and Tara could feel Willow's rapid heartbeat under her fingertips. "This," Willow said, punctuating the sentence with a kiss, "is what you make me feel, Tara. All you have to do is walk into the room, and this is what happens. You are my life."

**-VIII-**

"Doyle, take front for a bit," Kennedy commanded, knowing full well that she probably shouldn't. If Doyle ever decided to give over to his demon side he'd be able to kill her faster than she put that thought together and Spike could bite her in the blink of an eyes. They wouldn't, but people got desperate after eighteen hours in Hell.

Kennedy hung back, taking a comfortable place beside Gunn. He was handsome and strong and if she swung that way, she had a feeling she would have gone for him. Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy or simple.

"How you holding up, chief?" Gunn asked her genuinely. He was nice once you got past his gruff side.

She looked at him squarely. "I've had worse days," she responded. She liked Gunn, but that was no reason to bring her guard down and show him her weaknesses.

"We're in Hell," he replied, chuckling a bit. "One can only guess what your childhood was like?"

Kennedy thought about it for a moment. "Spent a lot of time bouncing back and forth between the NYC and London. Step-dad was from England, mom was from New York, neither wanted to give it up," Kennedy told him.

"Heard you didn't exactly grow up the Bronx though," Gunn said stiffly. His jaw was set in a defiant state.

Kennedy thought about how too proceed, deciding honesty was probably honorable with Charles Gunn. "No, had a house in the Hamptons May through September, lived in England the rest of the time. Came to The City for holidays; Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years. I found out I was a Potential when my mom married Roger," Kennedy informed him. "He _was_ The Watchers' Council, so... I just had a lot of pressure put on me as a kid. He trained with me until I decided to stay in New York when I was eighteen, then The Council assigned someone to me."

"Yeah. Why was that?" Gunn asked curiously.

Kennedy was silent for a long while, but she knew she had to be straight with Gunn. "If Buffy or Faith had died... it was likely that I would have been next apparently."

Gunn let out a low whistle. "That's a bomb-drop right there," he remarked, punching her playfully in the shoulder. He sobered up though. "I heard you went through a couple Watchers after step-daddy decided to let you stay in The States."

Kennedy stiffened instantly, and this didn't go unnoticed by Gunn. "I don't like to talk about that," she replied quickly. She looked at the tracking device, trying to be casual. "This is where we lost Faith's signal," she announced.

Spike and Doyle stopped ahead of her. "We're nearly a day in," Spike stated. "Should we turn around and head back or have a look-see?"

"We've come thus far," Doyle added. "If we're trying to find her, we'll not be doing well to turn back now."

Kennedy looked at Gunn and then back to the other two. "I'll back a couple paces and send Angel a message," she agreed. "Buy us another thirty-six hours?"

**-IX-**

The message got to Angel just as another familiar face did. He knocked on the door politely, then swung it open and entered the Hyperion. Angel looked up from the message just as he walked in.

"Oz," Angel greeted him.

"Hey," Oz responded, giving a small wave.

Oz had never really had a grudge against Angel, even if he were a vampire. Buffy had liked him and he had liked Willow- they had both been there for their girls and never interacted much beyond that back then.

Nowadays, Oz was working for Angel as a roaming agent. He was free to go where he wanted, when he wanted, and mostly do what he wanted. He was just keeping tabs on the demonic actions he caught glimpses of around him, and came back to L.A. a few times a year.

"I heard there was some pretty interesting action going down around here. Thought I'd come to lend a hand," Oz informed him.

"Yeah. We've got people coming back from the dead, Scoobies in L.A., long lost friends coming in," Angel explained, looking over at his computer just as The Faith Retrieval Team (FRT) went off the grid.

"Sounds kind of crazy," Oz commented calmly.

"It has been, but we've had help," Angel went on. He looked at Oz again, "we could always use more though."

Oz stretched his arms out in an open motion. "I'm here as long as you need me," he offered.

A shriek fell down from one of the upper floors and Angel looked at Oz quickly. "Dawn," they said in unison, bolting for the door.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-

"Sonofabitch!" Jillian heard Dawn scream just as she and Connor entered the room.

She took in the sight of Dawn laying trapped underneath a bookshelf while the demon-chick with the flame-tipped hair stalked toward her. Jillian instinctively grabbed an iron letter-opener from the desk to her right and flung it expertly at the she-demon, hitting her squarely in the chest. However, Jillian's displays of weaponry barely slowed the creature down, and seemed to make her rather more pissed off. It did take her attention of of Dawn, though. And centered it on Jillian and Connor.

Jillian turned to her handsome new friend. "Any brilliant plans in that head of yours?" she asked hurriedly.

Connor stared at the demon threateningly, as if challenging it to attack them. "Just one," he answered, his voice steely.

Connor leaped expertly at the demon, toppling her over as he screamed, "get Dawn!"

Jillian hurried over to Dawn and the fallen bookcase just as she heard footsteps behind her. She tried to heave the bookshelf up, but she could only lift the half that her hands tugged on. She needed help, and luckily, Oz had a very helpful set of spare hands.

"On three," Oz told Jillian evenly, waiting for her to nod before continuing. "One... Two..."

"Three!" Jillian screamed, pulling the bookshelf off of Dawn just as Angel pulled his game-face.

"Look Lady! I don't appreciate people messing with my next generation!" Angel yelled at the woman. He pinned her against the wall, then yelled over his shoulder, "Someone, toss me that fire-poker!"

Connor and Jillian both jumped for the poker that had been sitting in the ember of the fireplace, just as Oz rushed to help Angel hold Fire Chick against the opposite wall. Jillian's hand hit the handle of the poker a split-second before Connor's did and they looked at each other before launching the white-hot iron rod across the room sending the cool end into Angel's hand.

"You like fire, lady? I'll give you fire!" Angel deadpanned, and then he jabbed the glowing end of the poker through the demon's torso. The gang stepped back just as the fiery she-demon went down in flames, screaming her head off. Literally.

The demon's charred head fell at Angel's feet, and it wasn't until then that he looked to the doorway to find Buffy, Xander, Giles, Willow, and Tara spilling into the library from the hallway. He looked back down disgustedly at the head. "Flamidui demon," Angel remarked coolly. "Been awhile since I've seen one of these crazies." He looked to Dawn, Jillian, and Connor, "For some reason they always blow their tops before they die."

"We'll take note of that," Dawn said acrimoniously, rubbing her chest and torso where the bookshelf had fallen on her.

"Dawn," Angel growled defeatedly, rubbing his forehead, "what in God's name happened?" He wasn't angry or even annoyed, just tired- too tired to do this tonight.

"Yeah, one minute I'm talking to Angel in his office and the next we're listening to you scream bloody murder," Oz added more forcefully. "Okay- One, what was that? And two, where did it come from?"

Everyone looked at Oz and took a half step back in surprise, everyone except Angel, and Connor, who had never before met Oz. When Jillian and Dawn got a grip on what was happened they ran toward their redheaded friend.

"You're back!" they yelled in unison, engulfing him in a hug.

When they stepped back they found him trying to conceal and smile and take charge since Angel looked so beat. "Back," he confirmed, looking at them both before turning to Dawn, "and still wondering what's going on."

Dawn circled the library, breathing a deep breath before turning back to her wolfish friend. "I don't even know what's going on!" she exclaimed to him desperately. "One second I'm studying an ancient Somalian text and then next I'm face-to-face with tall, dark, and fiery!"

Oz took a deep breath stretching his arms behind his head before responding, "Did she say anything before she blasted you?"

Dawn took a second, seeming to reel as if this were the most ridiculous question in the world. "She said what they all say," she spat at him in exasperation. "'_You cannot stop us, The End is near'_" Dawn announced, mocking the voice of the she-demon. Dawn seemed wound for sound after the fight with tall, dark, and fiery, and it sounded in her every syllable.

"Dawnie, calm down," Xander tried to soothe her.

She whirled on him. "It's two in the morning, I haven't slept in twenty-eight hours, I just got _telekinetically blasted_ into a _bookcase_, that fell _on top_ of me, and now I'm being given the third degree, so don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down, Alexander Harris!" she fumed at him.

Jillian set a gentle hand on her best friend's shoulder. She didn't need to say anything to Dawn, because she knew her best friend would already calm down. "Relevo," she whispered for good measure. She felt Dawn relax under her hand.

Angel looked at the Scoobies who had filed into the room, and had been watching Dawn with growing worry. Buffy, Willow, and Tara looked taken aback, while Xander looked hurt. Dawn needed a chance to apologize to him.

"Xander, would you walk Dawn to her room, please?" Angel asked him, trying to explain more with his expression. "I think she may need some rest before she's ready to help any more." Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but Angel looked severely at her. "This is not up for discussion," he said plainly.

Xander nodded and offered a wary arm out to Dawn, who quickly walked past her sister and the other members of her surrogate family, out the door, and down the hall. Xander's one eye conveyed his tired weariness before disappearing behind her.

Buffy looked at Angel. "Is she like that a lot lately?" she asked him.

"Increasingly," he responded, still staring blankly at the spot where the two had vanished. "She's over-worked, run-down, and exhausted in too many different ways." He looked up to Buffy helplessly. "I've told her to take some time off, go visit you guys or, at the very least, just cut back on her hours here. Talk to some normal people about anything other than demon-fighting and vampire-slaying and apocalyptic events. She just... refuses." He finished with a haunted look in his eye, as if this had really been bothering him. "She won't even go out on a Friday night with Kennedy anymore. Even _Kennedy_ can't get through to her, and I've _never_ seen that happen. Kennedy's good with people, well, except for experienced Slayer-type-people and authority figures. She isn't much for authority figures."

A ghost of a smile crossed Buffy's lips. "She never was," she confirmed.

"I just... I don't know what to do," Angel admitted, pacing the study.

"Maybe we let her run her course," Oz, who had been long-forgotten, spoke up.

Angel, Giles, Jillian, Connor, Buffy, Willow, and Tara's head all snapped up to their travel-worn acquaintance. Angel and Jillian had soft smiles on their faces, Giles and Buffy were mildly surprised, Tara kept looking anxiously from Willow to Oz, and Willow looked just content. Connor was, of course, still confused and indifferent to the stranger.

"Uh, Connor," Jillian addressed him before turning to Oz. "Oz, Connor. Connor, Oz."

"Hey," Oz said simply, nodding to Angel's son. He turned to Angel, remarking, "spitting image."

"Nice to meet you, man," Connor greeted him.

"Now, what were you saying about letting something run its course?" Jillian asked Oz curiously.

Oz shuffled his feet, looking down thoughtfully. "Well," he continued, looking up at them, "in the time I've known her, Dawn hasn't exactly been... compliant. She's pretty independent, ya know? Marches to the beat of her own drum, that sort of thing." He shrugged briefly. "Maybe we let her figure out that this isn't the solution to things the hard way. Let her work herself past exhaustion, and hope she realizes what you've been trying to tell her."

They were silent for second, as Jillian leaned against the same desk as Connor, barely noticing their closeness. Giles dropped into an over-stuffed armchair and Buffy sat on the right arm. Willow entwined her fingers absently with Tara's, not even thinking about it but just sort of doing it naturally.

"It makes sense," Connor said finally, breaking the silence. Everyone looked at him quizzically. "I know I don't know Dawn very well," Connor explained slowly, "but she does seem like the kind of girl that Oz explained her to be. Kind of like me." He looked directly at his father when he said this. "And you, dad. She'll brood, she'll run herself into the ground, but she'll come to terms with whatever is making her act like this."

Angel looked at Buffy. "You're her sister," he said to her softly. "I've been trying to look after her and help her as much as I can... but I'm not her family- you are. The call is yours, you can try to get through to her that this isn't helpful, or you can let it run its course as Oz suggested. It's up to you, Buffy."

Buffy looked to Willow and Tara for guidance, but each seemed to be in agreement with Angel. She considered it, after all, this was the first call she'd had to make regarding Dawn since her sister had come to L.A.

"Dawn's strong and smart," Buffy thought aloud. "But... she's also defiant and stubborn and kind of impossible-"

"Wonder where in the world she got that from," Angel remarked, a smirk teasing his mouth.

Buffy rolled her eyes and continued, "She's capable though, and she keeps things to herself that we don't know. And, because of that, we never have all the variables." She paused for a long time. "I think Oz is right, there's nothing we can do for her. We have to let her drill herself a hole before we can pull her out."

"Let's just hope," Jillian managed some ire in her voice, "that that hole doesn't go straight to Hell."

Buffy looked at Jillian plaintively. "You're her best friend, aren't you?" Buffy asked, though it was more of a statement.

Jillian nodded. "And she's mine," the younger girl added, biting back tears. She looked at Angel, "we can't let anything else happen to her. It's not right."

"I know," Angel answered, his voice echoing softly in the stillness of the expansive library. "I know."

**-II-**

Gunn watched carefully, both protectively over Kennedy and desperately for Faith. Their Slayer couldn't possibly be dead. Because that's what Faith had become to his team- _their_ Slayer, _their_ friend, _their_ ally. She had good in her and she wanted redemption and approval and no one knew that feeling better than Charles A. Gunn.

Then something caught his eye. He knelt down and picked up the small, ragged piece of black denim fabric. Faith had been wearing black jeans when she'd disappeared, he knew that much.

"Kennedy, I think I may have found something!" he yelled over to her.

"Something as in Faith-something or something as in 'hey look a penny!'-something?" she asked, walking over with Doyle on her heels.

"Faith something," he assured her, as she crouched beside him. "Definitely Faith." He handed her the denim.

"Faith never goes on an assignment wearing anything but jeans or leathers," Kennedy thought out loud. She stood up and looked around, "she's been here. I can sense it."

"Right," Spike added unhelpfully. "And that's not creepy or anything."

Kennedy looked at Spike without amusement. "Can you see if you can smell her?" she asked him curtly. "You vamps can do that, right? Sniff out specific humans?"

Spike took a step back and looked at her incredulously. "Do I looked like a search dog to you?" he demanded indignantly. At the sight of Kennedy face though, he deflated a bit. "Alright, fine, but you lot might want to stand back a bit."

Gunn watched as Spike vamped out, his face becoming monstrous and lumpy. He breathed a deep breath in, smiling maniacally, as if their scents were overwhelming to him. His eyes seemed to roll backwards a bit and he grinned mischievously.

"She's been here, all right," he stated, his face forming back to normal. "And she smells absolutely delectable."

"Your fangs had better not go anywhere _close_ to her," Kennedy threatened him. "Or, I promise you, I will not hesitate to stake you." Her eyes revealed to Gunn that this was not an empty threat.

"Alright! Alright!" Spike said defensively, raising his hands in mock-surrender. "It's not like I was going to bite the skinny little brat anyhow," he muttered in a low voice.

"Which. Way. Do. We. Go?" Kennedy asked bitingly, visibly trying to control her anger.

"East!" Spike snapped at her.

Gunn watched her turned in a three-sixty circle, looking at every tunnel around them in frustration. He glanced down at him compass, then pointed to the tunnel to their left. "This way," he said, pulling on the sleeve of her shirt.

"You're sure?" she asked seriously, looking at him.

"Sure, I'm sure," he answered, not offended. "Now, come on, we don't have a lot of time left.

Spike hung back. "She's bleeding," he explained to them when they looked back. "Don't want any temptations. But she's not far."

**-III-**

Xander kept sneaking anxious looks at Dawn, seeing if she were about to explode again. He knew that Dawn was an adult now, he could see it in everything she did, but that didn't mean he still wasn't her Xander.

Dawn seemed so different from two years ago. Of course, they had seen each other at various intervals throughout at that time, but there was always so much going on that he never got a chance to hang out with her like they used to. Just him and her, by themselves and looking after one another.

She still had the brown hair and the beyond blue eyes, but they seemed different now. Her hair softer and shinier, more intoxicating maybe, while her eyes didn't belong to a child or a teenager anymore, but to a mature adult now. It was in the way she walked, confidant and sure and full of purpose, like every step she took could mean the difference between life and death and she was bound and determined that it meant life. She spoke differently too, despite her minor meltdown in the library, she was calmer, cooler, more level-headed, but still humorous and a bit sarcastic. The difference between Xander's Dawn and this new Dawn, was that this Dawn was a grown woman.

"Your eyes are burning holes in my face, Xander," she said suddenly, jolting him out of his reverie. "Didn't your mother ever teach you that it isn't polite to stare at someone?" Her voice was serious, but her tiny half-smile told him otherwise.

"Sorry," he replied quickly anyway. "It's just..." He looked at her seriously, "you grew up on me, Dawnie."

Her ice-blue eyes sparkled at him. "I had to, Xan," she sighed exhaustively, turning her head away from him. "It was either grow up or get dead, so I grew up and I'm better for it now." She peered at him suspiciously through her curtain of silky, brown hair. "What?" she asked shyly.

He offered her his hand as they climbed the stairs to the third floor, and she took it willingly. Her own small hand felt delicate in his calloused one, but she felt comfort in it. Only Xander had ever made her feel so safe while the butterflies in her stomach seemed so panicked.

"You're definitely not a kid anymore, Dawnie," he told her, his tone odd and indistinguishable.

"And y-you're definitely not rocking the eye p-patch anymore," Dawn stuttered, trying to lift the tension that had suddenly seized her. She pulled her hand away from Xander's and put a little more space between them.

Xander snapped out of it when Dawn's hand left his. What was that? Dawn wasn't a _girl_-girl, she was a sister-type-girl. He was just trying too hard to reconnect with her.

"Yeah, you liking the glass eye?" he asked, touching it teasingly. She made a face purely for his amusement.

"You look like you always did," she stated, shrugging. "Besides, it never mattered to me. You were always just Xander."

"To you, sure," Xander conversed. "But people tend to look at you differently when you're thirty and you look like a pirate. The stares just got old, hence the glass eye."

Dawn nodded, understanding. "Yeah, I get that," she murmured gently. "It's like... there's something about you that separates you from other people. It makes you feel... isolated."

Xander looked curiously at Dawn. How did she know all of that? Then he knew. It was because she wasn't little Dawn anymore, she was now a hero fighting for Angel's team and a grown person.

She had changed. So was that why the way Xander had always looked at Dawn was changing?

**-IV-**

Doyle, Kennedy, and Gunn proceeded into the left tunnel, scanning the dingy floors for any sign of a human girl with a lot of blood shed. It wasn't too long before Kennedy's gut was humming with the feeling that they were fast approaching her. Then they saw her, and Kennedy almost blacked out.

Faith was mangled, burned, and, indeed, bleeding badly. Kennedy whipped off her shirt and began ripping it apart and tying the pieces around Faith's wounds tightly. Gunn pulled a canteen of water from his bag and took the piece of denim from Faith's jeans, he soaked the fabric and pressed it against her forehead, pouring more water into some of her other wounds and wiping them off.

"Doyle, the medical supplies is in Kennedy's pack," Gunn informed their friend. "Get it, quickly," he ordered.

Kennedy looked at him. "We _have_ to get her somewhere safer than this," she shrieked at him hysterically. "We're right out in the open and I don't particularly like the idea of having- having to fight of H-Hellvillians while trying to save my friend's l-life!" Kennedy kept gasping and stuttering over her words, trying to push back the tears.  
Gunn knew that Kennedy was going into shock, because he'd seen it a million times in his old hood. Someone close to him or one of his friends got hurt and they automatically started falling to pieces. He was impressed that Kennedy was still as together as she was.

Gunn looked back at her. "But Angel-"

"Spike," she supplied quickly. Kennedy turned to Doyle, "Doyle, go with Spike back to the Hyperion, tell Angel what's going on and get help. There's no way that we'll make it back in eighteen hours, carrying Faith." Her voice was harsh and crazed as she spoke to him.

She looked wildly to Gunn for his understanding and he gave her a reassuring look. She needed to know that she was doing the right thing, even under her current state.

Doyle set a hand on either of their shoulders. "God be with you, guys," he told them genuinely. "And, please, don't let her die." His voice was emotional and pleading, and Gunn knew why. Doyle didn't like the idea of leaving them behind.

"Be careful, Doyle," Kennedy told him worriedly. Gunn could see that she was still fighting back hysterical tears, and knew that she wasn't one to cry. "_Please_, don't get your-yourselves killed," she gasped.

Gunn turned to see Doyle nod and run back toward Spike, checking to make sure Doyle had brought a pack with him, before turning back to his new-found friend. He touched Kennedy's chilled hand, covered in Faith's blood and her own tears that she hadn't quite managed to wipe away. She looked up at him helplessly.

"She can't"-sharp intake of breath- "can't die, G-Gunn," she cried desperately. "This-this is Faith. Faith d-doesn't die. She's The-The Other S-Slayer. Faith doesn't d-die." Kennedy's hands threatened to become blurs as she tried to tend to every one of Faith's injuries at once.

Gunn grabbed her hands, fighting her at first, then just holding them as she gave up. He looked at her solemnly, feeling emotion pick behind his eyes as well, but knowing no tears would fall. "She won't die, Kennedy," he told her certainly. "She will not die. She'll live and Angel will come and get her, and us, out of here." His words were a lot more sure than he felt, but they seemed to calm Kennedy down and bring her back to her senses.

Kennedy wiped the back of her hand over her cheeks hurriedly, accidentally smearing Faith's blood over them. "We still have to find somewhere safer for her," she reminded him, obviously trying to sort herself out. "Safety, then first aid."

This logic didn't make a ton of sense to Gunn, after all there was a reason why it was called _first_ aid, but he let Kennedy take charge. It seemed like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. The last thing they needed was a dying Slayer and another going through a complete mental breakdown.

"Okay," Gunn reasoned, figuring he didn't have to take a complete backseat to all of this. "I saw a cavern-type-thing back there a bit. You grab the pack, I'll get Faith," he said.

He swung The Dark Slayer up into his arms easily enough. She seemed light, but obviously sturdy. Still, he figured he could take her if he had to. Looking at her though, he couldn't imagine having to ever fight her. Despite her bedraggled state, she was still beautiful and sultry; dark, curly hair, smoky lashes, small, delicate nose, full, pouty lips. She had a leaned, muscular frame but there were definitely distinctive curves. Faith was a play-it-by-ear, beat-the-system, searching-for-redemption type girl, and Gunn liked that.

"I _don't_ have to worry about you having your way with her, _do I_?" Kennedy asked suspiciously, catching the way that Gunn was gazing at Faith.

He looked over at the woman who was becoming his partner-in-crime through all of this, a real steadfast friend. He smirked. "No," he teased, "she's just kind of beautiful."

"Beautiful," Kennedy agreed, making it clear that there was a 'but'. "But also psychotic eighty-nine to ninety-eight percent of the time." She gave him a 'don't-even-go-there' look, as they found the cavern that Gunn had described.

It was small, and wasn't set back too far from the beaten path of the tunnel, but it was still out of the way a bit. Gunn set Faith gently to the red clay ground, pulling his jacket off and lifting her head to use it as a pillow. Then Kennedy was back in action.

"We need to get her clothes off," she said quickly, scanning Faith carefully.

"_Now,_ who's trying to have their way with Faith?" he demanded, unsure of what else to say.

Kennedy pulled a face at him. "Gunn, we won't know the extent of damage until we check her over _completely_."

"And this doesn't fall under violating her?"

Kennedy looked like he'd slapped her around the face for a second, before pulling herself together again. "_No,_" she growled angrily. "We're her friends, she's hurt, and we need to save her life. Maybe she'll hate us for it when she comes to, maybe she won't, but I'm not going to sit here and let her die because we're afraid it's unethical."

Kennedy began unbuttoning Faith's shirt, and Gunn realized that she had a point. Faith's life was hanging in the balance right now, and all they could worry about was saving her. So he began taking off her shoes and socks, letting Kennedy take of the more intimate apparel. He couldn't even imagine what was running through her rattled mind right now.

Kennedy checked her over, scrutinizing every inch, before flipping her over and doing the same to her backside. She looked at Gunn again. "It's not too bad," she concluded. "She's mangled and I think we're going to have to really watch her knee for swelling, but other than that it's treatable wit what we have. She's just lost _a lot_ of blood."

"Is she gonna need a transfusion?" Gunn asked her, familiar with the medical lingo after so many years.

Kennedy didn't left her eyes from the first aid supplies. "Possibly, but there's nothing we can do for her down here," she answered, pulling out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a package of gauze. She looked at Faith, "I'm really, _really_ sorry about this, girl. It'll probably hurt a lot."

Gunn looked at her. "Let's get to work," he told her.

**-V-**

Angel, Buffy, Giles, Jillian, Connor, Oz, Willow, and Tara were still sitting in the library when Spike and Doyle ran in. They'd ran nearly the entire way here, only ever stopping briefly, causing the eighteen hours they'd walked had been cut down to eleven. Everyone looked up as they entered.

Angel took a headcount and found that it came up two short. "Kennedy? Gunn?" he demanded, looking from Spike to Doyle and back again.

"They were alright when we left them," Spike assured him, breathing hard. "We ran back on Kennedy's orders, they found Faith. I don't think she's doing too well though."

"Angel," Doyle cut in, "she's lost so much blood. Kennedy's going out of her mind just trying to keep her from dying. It's bad."

Angel paused for a moment, taking this in. He was unsure what to do now. He trusted Kennedy and Gunn enough to know that they were doing everything they could to keep Faith alive, but would it be enough? They had limited supplies and they weren't exactly in a great environment at the moment.

"We have to find a way to get them out of there," Jillian said, voicing Angel's thoughts. He wondered briefly if she'd read his mind.

"How?" Connor asked, continuing his father's train of thought. "By the sound of it, Faith's not exactly going to be easy to transport and certainly not through hell."

Jillian's face changed, and Angel knew she had an idea. "Not _trans_port- _tele_port," Jillian said, her eyes clouding over and her voice becoming faint.

"What are you seeing, Jill?" Angel asked her gently.

"If we can't move her naturally, then we use magic," Jillian explained. "Open a tunnel from here to the Hell dimension. It's not gonna be easy but it's the only way."

"The Powers agree with that?" Oz asked, bring everyone's attention back to him.

Jillian nodded, the clouds in her eyes clearing away. "Yes," she said, back in her body again. "They'll help us along the way, but it's mostly up to me."

"Don't count on it, kid," said a soft voice from the hallway. Everyone turned to see Jenny walking towards them. "This is an _extremely_ powerful spell, you're not doing it alone. Luckily, I'm pretty good at this sort of thing."

"Wes can help too," Connor said from behind them. "With the spells and stuff. He's good at that. Well, except for that one time that he-"

"Connor," Angel said sharply, watching Jillian's eyes grow wide as saucers.

"Sorry," Connor said quickly.

Angel looked to Jillian. "Kennedy won't like this, Jill," he stated. It wasn't accusatory or even stern, just matter-of-fact.

Jillian looked down thoughtfully, and then back up to meet Angel's gaze. "I know," she replied. "But this is Faith, and there's not a whole lot of options here. Besides, my big sis can't protect me from every little thing forever." She turned to Jenny, "Can you get my brother? If you make a sound, sort of threatening sound, he should wake up just fine." She watched Jenny smirk, nod, and start down the hall, then she turned to Angel. "Can you grab me a dozen white candles, black paint, and the _Vito Ovis Alica_ text?"

Angel nodded and loped off.

Buffy looked seriously at the young girl "You're sure this can work?"

Jill nodded. "Can? Yeah. Will?... I really hope so, but it's our best bet," she replied.

Buffy nodded, unhappy but understanding.

**-VI-**

Kennedy knew exactly what Jillian had tried to do the moment the spell had taken place. Trying to move three adult-sized people from all the down in Hell to the Hyperion was dangerous, stupid, thoughtless... and also brave. Still, she was in _so_ much trouble.

Gunn had squeezed Kennedy's hand, grabbing the pack and holding Faith against his chest as he felt the magic cast through him. She tried to give him a reassuring look, but with how livid she was at Jillian and how frightened she was that Faith's body couldn't take the stress, she was sure it was more of a grimace.

Then it all stopped, and everything was still and silent. Still and silent, were never good things in L.A. those days. Kennedy whirled around, her hands leaving Gunn and Faith, as she tried to regain her bearings.

"I'm going to kill her," Kennedy growled slowly, looking at the startled blonde behind the wheel of a Chevrolet L.A.P.D. cruiser.

"Kennedy, what the hell just happened?" Gunn demanded snappily.

Kennedy watched the stunned woman open the door of the police cruiser, rest her gun on the top of the door, and train it on them. "Freeze! Los Angeles Police Department!" she yelled out. "Hands up!"

Kennedy groaned but stuck her hands up away. "We _so_ do not have time for this!" she complained, glaring at the female cop.

"I need names!" she demanded of them.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Kennedy replied, knowing full well what her smart-ass remark would get her. She just hoped Jillian repeated the transition spell before she got a bullet in the skull.

**-V-**

"Dammit!" Jillian yelled loudly, causing the by-standers to jump back.

"What?" Angel demanded in alarm. "Jillian, _what happened_?"

Jillian looked down at the spell book quickly. "I got them back to L.A., but not here," Jillian explained quickly, flipping the pages. She looked at Jenny and Wes, "It wasn't powerful enough! We need to try it again. Fast."

They nodded and quickly started reciting the spell once more.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5-

"My name is Kennedy Pryce," Kennedy told the blonde cop. "You don't need to know anything more about me than that." She gestured to Gunn and Faith. "Or them. Now it's your turn."

The cop relaxed a bit, but didn't drop her gun. "L.A.P.D. Detective Savannah Evans," the badge replied. "And what do you mean? I 'don't need to know anything more'?"

"Trust me, Detective," Kennedy bantered, buying time, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Detective Evans challenged, just as Kennedy and Gunn felt the spell take effect again.

"There's no time," Gunn yelled out to Savannah Evans. "Catch you later, Detective!"

Then the swirl of molecules started up again and the Hyperion finally came back into view. Kennedy looked anxiously to Faith, who, she realized then, was half-naked and laying in the lobby of the Hyperion. Kennedy looked over herself- only to realize that she was still in only her bra and jeans and her shirt was drenched in Faith's blood. She quickly grabbed her jacket and buttoned it up.

Gunn checked Faith's pulse fretfully, which wasn't usually how he rolled. It was still there, but it was irregular and faint. "Kenn, we need to get her to a hospital," he told her hurriedly. "She's fading fast and she needs a transfusion pronto."

"Angel! Wesley!" Kennedy screamed at the top of her lungs. "Lobby! And hurry!"

Connor was the first to get there and he dropped to his knees and slid across the marble floors to them as soon as he caught a glimpse of Faith. "God!" he swore, helping Gunn to suppress the still-flowing blood. "Dad! Get in here quick!" he screamed to his father.

Angel appeared in the doorway, flanked on either side by Wesley and Buffy. "Good God," Wesley remarked. He looked at Angel, "we need to get her stabilized quickly."

Angel nodded. "Call Nina and get Cordelia up now, Wes," he ordered, already turning to Jillian. "I need amethyst and sage. I'm also gonna need some of the blood packs that Spike keeps in the basement cooler, a bottle of antiseptic, a needle, some horsehair and the IV tubes from the kitchen, "he told her.

"I'll lend her a hand," Jenny offered, while Angel nodded. Giles followed Jenny quickly out of the library.

"Me too," Oz added, disappearing as well.

"Thanks," Angel added absently. He looked at Kennedy and Gunn, "God, you two are a mess. And what happened to you shirt, Kennedy?"

Kennedy glared at him. "We'll worry about that later. Right now we have several rather more pressing problems here," she snapped.

"Several?" Angel growled.

"Jillian's spell worked the first time, but it only got us into the street above one of the Hellholes, and right in front of a detective for the L.A. Police Department," Kennedy explained quickly. Then her attention quickly snapped back to Faith. "We've gotta move her into the parlor or somewhere, she's in enough pain as it is, there's no reason to leave her on the floor of the lobby."

Angel nodded, as Gunn jumped up, grabbing a long shield from the weapons cabinet and setting it on the floor beside the slayer. Angel got the girl's shoulders while Gunn held her lower half and Kennedy went to protect her head.

"On three," Kennedy told them. "One, two, three." They hurriedly lifted her onto the shield. Then Kennedy stood back as the boys lifted Faith and carried her into the parlor, setting her down on a chaise lounge sofa and sliding the shield out from underneath her.

Buffy, Willow, Tara, and Kennedy stood by as Gunn and Angel did this. Buffy then turned to the younger slayer.

"How much of that blood is yours?" she asked blatantly. Now wasn't the time for softness. Faith was dying and things were bad.

Kennedy looked down at herself, covered in blood, and realized what Angel had meant by her looking like a mess. "I don't think very much of it," she said. "But I don't even know. I'm more worried about our rogue over there," she added, nodding to Faith.

"Are you angry at her?" Buffy asked the woman carefully. She and Kennedy had never been notorious for being friends, but she could definitely sympathize with the girl now. She and Faith had grown closer over the years, even to the point where they could call themselves friends, and Faith didn't have a lot of those.

Kennedy thought about it. "How can I be?" she asked defeatedly. "I mean, as stupid as her plan was, she really was only trying to help. The same as Lorne or Oz or any of our other rogues. She made a mistake, and it's now threatening her life. I have no right to be angry with her."

"Still, she's done some pretty idiotic things over the years, but this has got to be one of the stupidest," Willow remarked detachedly.

"I'm not arguing with you," Kennedy told her stiffly, looking back for only a moment. "But it _is_ Faith. She is who she is and nothing and no one is ever going to change that. Some slack is required while working with her."

Buffy smirked at girl who had helped her fight the Turok-Han and The First. "Listen to you, sounding all business-y and what not," Buffy teased her gently, not wanting to upset the girl more than she was.

Kennedy laughed easily though. "I have to," she responded, looking over at Buffy. "The professionalism is part of why Angel Investigations is so well off. Gotta roll with the punches and abide by the number one slayer rule. You taught me that, I believe."

Buffy chuckled softly. "Well, I guess I did," she answered. It startled her that Kennedy had taken her advice on any account. They were slayers together but they hadn't always gotten along so well.

"What's the number one Slayer rule?" Tara asked from behind the two, who were standing shoulder-to-shoulder as a united front.

Kennedy and Buffy both turned their heads to look at her. Buffy with a sisterly adoration and Kennedy with perfect indifference. "Don't die," they said together.

"But, Buffy, you did die," Tara argued teasingly.

"Twice, actually," Willow added, trying to catch Kennedy's eye.

Buffy laughed haughtily. "You know me, guys," Buffy responded softly.

"She's a rule-breaking survivor or something," Kennedy finished. Then she looked at Faith, who was stirring slightly. "And so is she."

**-II-**

"Hello Kennedy." Willow's voice startled Kennedy, making her jump and drop the Latin text she had been reading.

Kennedy looked up to see the redhead smiling hesitantly at her. There was sadness, pain, and longing in her face, but something reviving was there too- love. Perhaps not for her, Kennedy thought, but for someone.

"Willow," Kennedy stated nervously, stooping to pick up the book she'd dropped. She stood, setting the book on her desk and smoothed her hands uncomfortably over the blue, button-up top and gray heather pencil skirt she had changed into. "How are you?"

Willow couldn't help but notice the way Kennedy's skirt hugged the woman's shapely hips and slender waist, while revealing her tanned, toned legs. The way the winter sunlight caught the shine of Kennedy's long, dark strands of hair and how her eyes seemed sorrowful and scared for once. She seemed older somehow, more solemn and doubtful about life than the girl who'd fallen for her back then.

"You look good," the words were out of Willow's mouth before she had time to stop. She then stood there awkwardly, permitting Kennedy to really get a look at her.

The messy locks of red hair, the green-gold eyes that Kennedy remembered getting lost in so vividly, her waist, her stomach. Those long slender fingers, her rose-petal lips, unchanged with time. Her freckles. It was all there, all Willow. All the woman she had loved from the beginning, but now cared for greatly as a friend.

"So do you," Kennedy said, hating the way her voice sounded thick and hoarse from her time in Hell.

"Can you pencil me in?" Willow asked lightly.

Kennedy nodded, beckoning Willow farther into the room. Willow came in, closing the door behind her as a signal to Kennedy that this would be a non-professional conversation. When she turned back, Kennedy was eyeing her hesitantly. Willow found herself looking for any sign of the girl she'd once cared so deeply for; the same girl who had chased away the ghosts and nightmares, given her support and encouragement, perhaps even love.

"I need to apologize," Willow blurted out quickly, then mentally smacked herself for it. She grimaced. "That came out a little better when I was practicing a few minutes ago. But I _am_ deeply sorry, Kennedy."

Kennedy stood up, walking around her desk to lean against the front of it. She pointed Willow to a red leather-back chintz chair across from her. They both knew that this wasn't going to be an easy discussion, and so Willow complied.

Kennedy was silent and thoughtful for a long moment. "You really have nothing to apologize for, Willow," she said simply. Willow opened her mouth to argue, but Kennedy persisted. "No," she said more firmly. "You don't. I distinctly remember _me_ leaving _you. _Not the other way around."

"But even when you were around," Willow began, quiet tears slipping down her cheeks, "even when we were together... I always knew-"

"_And,_" Kennedy conjectured quickly, "so did I." Kennedy paused again, but it wasn't so long this time. "Willow, I liked you from the moment I saw you. You were beautiful and _so_, so smart, brave, strong, and just sweet to everyone, but I knew you'd been hurt. I pushed because I wanted to see if you could move on from the past, the hurt, the guilt, to find some solace and maybe even let someone care for you." Kennedy chose her words carefully, as if she'd been waiting for this moment for a long time and wanted everything to come out right. Willow was crying outright now, letting everything she'd held for so long be drawn out and replaced with the solace that Kennedy talked about.

"But I knew after I first kissed you... and figured out more from then on... that you could give me _so_ much, and I could try to help you, to heal you, to love you, all I wanted, but your heart?" Kennedy smiled a small, weary smile. "Willow, your heart always belonged to Tara. I'm a brat, sure, but a bitch I am not- depending on who you ask." Willow chuckled softly at the joke, Kennedy laughing with her before becoming somber again. "I once told you that I usually get my way. That I usually get what I want. Well, believe me, I wanted your heart." Kennedy's tone conveyed how deeply this was the truth. "But that wasn't mine to take. It was either yours to give me, or it was Tara's- forever." Kennedy stood up, still sure and confident, but shaking a bit. She crouched in front of the chair to meet Willow's eyes directly, wiping away the redhead's tears with her thumbs. "I don't know a lot about this twisty-turby mystical world we live in, but I do know this: Tara is your soulmate, Willow. And your heart? Always has, is now, and always _will_ be hers."

Willow took all of this in slowly, letting each of Kennedy's carefully chosen words seep into her mind and soul. She looked at the woman in front of her carefully as she moved back to her perch on the edge of the desk. She felt affection towards the brunette, that would always be true, but it wasn't the same love that she felt for Tara.

"You, Kennedy, are perhaps one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life," Willow breathed softly, smiling good-naturedly a watery smile. "And I know we're friends and all, but if you're mad at me, you don't have to hide it. I'll understand."

Kennedy looked sternly at her. "I would never lie to you, Willow," she replied, her voice softer than her stare. Then her face softened too, "Will, I've had two years to get to where I am now. To be angry and grudging and to even cry a little, despite my policy"-she smiled unabashedly at the witch- "and I'll understand... if you need time to... sort it all out. The same way I did."

Willow stared at the brunette, knowing that every word that she had said was the truth. Kennedy harbored no resentment or ill feelings towards the girl she'd fallen for so long ago, just an non-dissipating desire to move on and really be friends with the woman she still cared quite a lot about.

"You definitely grew up, Kenn," Willow sighed in relief. She felt like a weight that she'd been carrying for years had been lifted off her shoulders. "You're so... different... so level-headed and _wise_. Well, except for the other day."

Kennedy narrowed her eyes playfully. "You know, it's a little offending that you sound so surprised that I've matured from my Potential days, Red," she remarked dryly. "And the other day... ugh," she groaned, "I was caught off-guard and_ i_f I couldn't show you who I've become... then I can't show you me. I'm proud of who I am today, and you... are an enormous part of that... but so is this place." She smirked bitterly, looking around. "After all," she sighed solemnly, "a place like modern-day L.A. changes you. Dawn and I joke that you have two choices: grow up fast or not at all."

Willow's face suddenly became bleak and worried. "How bad is it out there?" she asked, putting on her brave face.

Kennedy sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I don't want to scare you, Willow," she replied plainly. "Because, in all honesty, we _really_ need you. And Tara, if she's up for it. But it's dangerous, even during the day sometimes. It gets scary... when the things that go bump in the night come out to play in the daylight as well." Kennedy voice and eyes had a haunted taint to them.

Willow was quiet for a moment. "These Big Bads... they aren't like anything we've ever faced before, are they?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

Kennedy sighed, smiling to try to make Willow worry less. "They are... the biggest and baddest we've ever seen," she answered honestly. "But... I know we can take them down. If we're together, it's possible. But I'm not going to let anybody die trying to take these guys down. Especially not twice."

Willow knew what she meant, and was grateful for that. Knowing that Kennedy would be out there, keeping a clear head, made Willow feel a little safer.

**-III-**

Dawn met Xander and Buffy in the hallway as they walked downstairs the next morning. She had been a little jumpy around Xander, not her usual fun-loving and playful self, and Buffy was beginning to notice the tension there. She had so much to focus on, but whatever was going on between Dawn and Xander was slowly starting to dominate her attention.

"We're going to have a meeting later on tonight," Dawn informed them brusquely. "Should be around six, so it'll be a meal and meeting. Angel's trying to get a few out on patrol, while dividing the rest of us into groups to research our Big Bads. All in all, it should be a fairly interesting day."

"Patrol? During the day?" Xander questioned apprehensively.

Dawn looked strenuously at him, the temperature in the hallway dropping ten degrees. "Not all of our enemies operate only after hours around here, Xander," she replied briskly. "Not all of them burn in the sunlight. Last week we took out a group of warlocks dealing in the Black Magicks. It got pretty sketchy."

"Okay, so who's gonna run patrol?" Buffy asked, trying to cut through the tangible tension.

Dawn slowed their pace as they came into the kitchen off of the lobby. "Normally, Kennedy would run it, but she's been deep into texts and volumes lately," Dawn responded evasively.

"So who _has_ been doing it recently?" Buffy demanded, stopping her sister and turning to face her straight on.

Dawn gulped visibly. "Well," she stammered, "I've kind of been doing it. I mean, we're always in groups and Jillian goes out with me most days." Seeing the look on her sister's face she added, "We're short on hands and I _am_ nineteen. You were preventing the Ascension when you where nineteen!"

"_I_ happened to be a Slayer," Buffy chided her. "Actually, the _only_ Slayer who wasn't a raving lunatic at that time." Buffy softened a bit. "You don't have to do this, Dawn. You could have a normal life."

Dawn scrunched her face at her sister. "In case you haven't noticed, Buff, I'm _not_ normal! I'm pure, undiluted energy only put into human form and sent to The Slayer for protection," she exclaimed angrily. "I have never been, nor will I have be, normal. I am who I am, and it's taken me a long time to accept it, but I have and I'm doing good because of it. I'm not a kid anymore, so just let me do my job. Please."

With that Dawn disappeared into the main lobby in search of her friends. Buffy and Xander were left standing there awkwardly, staring after her with absolute shock written across both their faces.

"Uh, what just happened?" Xander inquired finally.

Buffy didn't take her eyes off of the spot where the youngest Summers had vanished. "I think I just got put in my place," Buffy answered numbly.

Xander slung an arm around his best friend's shoulders and dragged her into the dining hall and to the table where Giles, Willow and Tara sat with Angel, Cordelia, and Connor. The last three, Buffy thought with a slight of annoyance, looked like a perfect family.

"What happened?" Willow and Angel asked in unison, catching Buffy's stunned expression.

Xander spoke up before Buffy got the chance. "Dawn had a minor meltdown on her," he explained, pushing Buffy down into one of the chairs and seating himself. "She doesn't like being told what to do."

Angel shook his head, amusement breaking into his expression unchecked. "It's not that she dislikes being told what to do," he said, "it's that she doesn't like being underestimated and coddled." He grinned good-naturedly at Buffy. "She doesn't enjoy being told that she _can't_ do something when she knows that she very well can."

Buffy nodded. "I didn't mean to wig on her," she mumbled, "it just scared me when she started talking about the Black Magicks dealers and her running day-patrol."

Giles cleared his, throat and cleaned his glasses. "Yes, well, as startling as that is Buffy, I think it wise to remember that Dawn is not a little girl anymore," he coaxed her gently. "She's been living here in Los Angeles for some time now and nothing serious has happened."

"Yeah, it's never gone beyond her hexing me into not being able to leave the library for two months," Kennedy assured them offhandedly, dropping into the seat on Connor's other side.

"She did _what_?" Buffy demanded angrily, shooting Angel a look.

Kennedy quickly came to his aid. "It all turned out fine," she explained hurriedly. "She just... got a little too curious...tried out a spell, and I... ended up unable to step back across the threshold of the library for two months." Kennedy smiled, trying to ease Buffy's mood. "But we found the countercurse and everything was okay. But I _did_ make the spell books Dawn-proof after that. Locked them up in the database and did the same to Jillian."

"Yeah, now both of them need us to type in a code if they want to use one of the books and they're put under some _serious_ supervision while doing it," Angel assured her. "Jillian was only seventeen at the time, so the decision on that fell directly on Kennedy's shoulders. You know, Kenn being the elder sister and all."

Xander choked on his coffee suddenly, and looked around at the younger Slayer. "You're Jillian's _sister_?" he asked in surprise. "Like, as in, Buffy and Dawn's case? You're related?"

Kennedy nodded, swallowing a bite of toast. "Half-sister," she corrected. "And where have you been? We've already established this.

"After Wes died, and Jillian wanted to come here, Kennedy's parents let her look after Jill," Angel explained.

Buffy was suddenly hit by a bout of brain-numbing confusion. "Wait, Wesley?" she asked. "What does he have to do with anything?"

Kennedy tilted her head to the side, looking at Buffy directly. "Jillian is his half-sister too," she explained. "Half of me and my mom, and half of Wesley and his father. I think with the whole Wesley-being-alive-again thing is kinda making her feel like she's been put under the microscope." Kennedy sighed.

"Yeah, she grabbed her board and ran out the door this morning after we had a slight confrontation," Angel informed her. "Said that if you or Dawn needed her, to go find her at the beach. I think she'd be around her usual spot."

Xander looked at Buffy. "Could that be where Dawn ran off to?" he asked her.

"Most likely," Connor answered for her. "From what I've seen so far, those two don't leave each other's backs unprotected for very long. Thicker than thieves, I guess." Connor's voice seemed a little bitter, and they all stared at him questioningly. He looked up and acknowledged this, "I just wish I had friends like that, you know?"

"Go follow them and make some then," Wesley suggested from behind him. "That way I can have your seat." He smiled tauntingly, watching Connor stand up.

"Over by the pier, right?" the young man asked them.

"Yep, 'bout a quarter of a mile north from the pier at Santa Monica on Venice Beach," Kennedy answered quickly.

Connor nodded and disappeared, leaving his seat to Wesley.

"They're going to become the next generation, aren't they?" he asked Angel dryly.

-IV-

Detective Savannah Evans wasn't an illogical cop, but she did believe in the supernatural. Most cops she'd met did, because not everything they saw was logical or natural. However, what Savannah had seen two nights ago was beyond strange, and she wanted to know if this 'Kennedy' was connected to the strange crime epidemic in L.A. that had been increasing over the last two years.

"Kennedy Pryce," her partner, Owen Grey, announced. He slapped a thin folder onto her desk. "Your mystery girl," he said coyly, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not that type of mystery girl, Owe," Evans rebutted, taking a much needed sip of the black coffee he'd also handed her.

"Trust me, I'm with you on the..."-he leaned in closer, lower his voice as he spoke the next word- "supernatural stuff, but _damn_ this girl is hot!" he declared, his voice returning to a normal volume on the last part.

Savannah gave him a stern look. "What have you got on her, Grey?" she monotoned.

Owen Grey cleared his throat. "Right. Well, she was originally born in New York City to a Laura Pryce, couldn't find much on her father." Savannah gave him a disappointed glance. "Uh," he struggled to continue, "when she was five, Laura Pryce was remarried to a Roger Wyndham. Step-daddy was rumored to be part of an underground secret society known only as The Watchers' Council. Roger and Laura became known as Wyndham-Pryce after their marriage, but the girl kept it short and sweet.

"She spent most of her life in boarding schools in London and then around the New York City area. Kind of a rebellious teen; got kicked out of a few schools, suspended, got into some fights. Began college at NYU, but dropped out suddenly in her first semester of junior year and flew to Sunnydale, California. Ring any bells?" He looked at her expectantly over the top of the file.

"That's the town that cratered mysteriously," Savannah realized.

"Yep," Owen said, making a popping sound with the 'p' for emphasis. "Spent a year in Cleveland after the town cratered and then went to L.A. Been here ever since. Clean record since graduation, not even so much as a parking violation, and she's now a student at UCLA. Studying in Business Management. Works at a cafe downtown and for a rogue P.I. Agency known as Angel Investigations."

"Residency?" Savannah pressed on, not a moment to waste.

"Get this," Owen began conspiratorially, "she leaves in the same place she works. Hyperion Hotel. Also headquarters to Angel Investigations." He paused. "You think this girl might know something about our unsolved cases?"

Savannah bit her lip. "It's better to be safer, than sorry."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6-

Connor was tiredly rubbing his eyes as he moved through the corridors of the place he'd unknowingly once called home. Curiosity caught the better of him as he saw a light on in Jillian's room at the end of the hall, across from Kennedy's closed door. He peered in to see her sitting on her bed with papers and books strewn across it and the desk close by, he chuckled as he knocked on the door frame.

"You're not very good at taking orders, are you?" he asked as she looked up, stepping into her room.

She smiled. "What are you doing up so late?" she asked, motioning for him to sit down in a chair across the room.

He looked at her sparkling midnight-blue eyes and soft, silky blonde hair. Her face was weary, but she was still smiling genuinely, a smile that made Connor's heart speed up and mouth go dry.

"I guess I could ask you the same question, huh?" he retorted lightly, kicking off his shoes and curling into the loveseat without invitation. He felt relaxed around Jillian, like they'd been friends their whole lives.

She smiled at his obvious lack of discomfort, feeling good that they were so relaxed around each other. "Promise you won't tell anyone? Dawn is the only person in this house who knows what I'm planning. Kenn would _flip_ if she found out," Jillian told him.

He made the motion of turning a key against his lips and tossing it over his shoulder. "Your secret is safe with me," he promised.

She slid closer to him, pushing a book and what looked like a diagram with her. Connor took the diagram and looked at it, seeing two entities on either side of the page and two bodies that overlapped, like a before, during, and after log. The first body was of a normal anatomical human woman, the overlapped one was of a half-woman half-demon, the organs on the demon-half being hollowed out and continued that way into the rest of it on the left.

"Okay? So, it's like a phase-chart, right? A woman going from human to demon?" he clarified, looking up at her.

She shook her head. "Yes and no," she corrected. "It's a demon hollowing out a human for store its soul." She tapped the black, semi-transparent entity on the left beside the demon. "Only one can exist in the body and so the demon hollows out the human to become the vessel."

She glanced up, meeting Connor's eyes. She looked down and blushed. "I'm sorry," she apologized pulling the chart away. "I can't imagine what kind of freak you think I am."

He stopped her, catching her wrist and bring the diagram back in the middle between them. "Hey," he said softly, "I'm the freak-child of two vamp-parents, remember? Trust me, I think I might know where you're going with this, so keep explaining."

She nodded shyly. "So the demon soul takes over the body... but, no one really knows what happens to the human soul after that," she explained. "Some say it's incinerated, and others say it... you know, moves on. Up or Down. Some even theorize that it lingers, like ghost... or a spirit, but it's not tangible and it can't touch anything."

"What do you think?" he asked her curiously.

She looked up at him with bitter ire in her eyes. "I think this is what happened to Wesley's girlfriend, Fred, and I'm trying to find a way to reverse it," she told him blankly.

He nodded. "Okay, so... where do we start?" he inquired, pulling a book on spirits toward him.

"We?" she questioned excitedly.

Connor looked up to meet her eyes with a softness in them. "I don't remember much about Fred," he admitted to her, "but, from what I heard, she took care of me and I was betraying her the whole time. If there's anything I can do to help put her right, then I'm going to do it. Fred cared for me without question and I betrayed that. It's time I try to make up for it." He had guilt and regret written all over his face, and Jillian reached forward and took his hand gently.

"Angel told me what happened," she confessed. "He said you didn't remember a lot about it. Just that he's your dad. And, you know, what you are. Is it... is it difficult? To not remember your old life? Or to know that, what you do remember, is a lie? Dawn says it's hard. She's The Key, and she's known for awhile but she still struggles with not actually being born Buffy's sister and all."

Connor mulled it over. "I guess... I guess it's kind of like this: I know who I am now. Me. The rest of it is all... subjective, but right now, I know who I am and who I want to be. I don't let my heritage or blood or memories defined who I am today," he answered slowly.

"And who is that?" Jillian challenged, wiggling her eyebrows.

"I'm Connor Reilly," he began with a slow breath. "My biological father is Angel. I was adopted by mortals who loved me and who I loved. I've been a good student and I graduated in the top-ten of my class at Montgomery Senior High School. I got accepted into Stanford, Berkeley, and UCLA, but I'm taking a year off to figure things out. Uh... I prefer football to baseball, but I like soccer more than all of them. I'm an avid swimmer. My favorite food is... mostly, American: hot dogs, hamburgers, steak-and-potatoes, chicken fingers, but I also love Italian." He laughed. "Your turn."

Jillian thought about it. "Okay," she responded slowly. "I'm Jillian Wyndham-Pryce. My parents are Roger and Laura, my siblings are both half-siblings, Kennedy and Wes. I grew up bouncing back an forth from London to New York. Um... my best friend is Dawn Summers. I like to play rugby with the boys, because I like seeing their faces when they realize that I can kick their asses." She laughed and Connor laughed with her, knowing this was probably true. "When I rant, my accent becomes _a lot_ more prominent. I like murder mystery novels, because I live with the fantasy. My favorite movies are romantic-comedies, but action is cool too. I'm a student at UCLA and I'm still not sure what I want to do so I'm taking criminology, psychology, forensic science, first aid, and history. I love to sing and to dance, and I believe that enjoying every second of life is the most important thing in the world."

"I like that," he agreed, taking her hand lightly and turning it palm-up. "And I can promise you," Connor said, looking seriously at her, "that I will do everything in my power to help you get Fred back. If only for Wesley's sake."

Jillian looked at him oddly. "She can help us save the world, Con," Jillian told him, looking for his reaction to the nickname. He only smiled. "She's Winifred Burkle. My brother loves her more than anything and I know that, but this world needs her in it."

"Then we'll bring her back into it, Jill," Connor promised her.

They both looked down to find their fingers entwined, and looked up to smile at one another.

**-II-**

"How's she doing?" Cordy's smooth voice came from the door to greet Gunn's ears.

He turned to look at her, cocking a single eyebrow. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he asked, turning hurriedly back to Faith as she stirred.

"Faith?" Cordelia sounded, walking over to the girl while Gunn touched her hand softly.

"You think she's coming to?" he asked, glancing at his friend briefly.

Then Faith let a painful hiss out through gritted teeth as she eyelids fluttered open. "What the hell?" she croaked, rubbing at the side of her neck. "Where am I?" She tried to sit up, but immediately fell back clutching her head. "Ow! Dammit!" she shrieked.

"Faith, don't move too much," Cordelia instructed her, not really expecting the girl to listen. "You're back at Angel Investigations. We had a team go down to retrieve you. You're alright, I patched you up, but you're not one-hundred-percent yet."

Faith's eyes flew open again in shock. "You-you're dead!" she yelped, looking at Cordy. She caught a glimpse at Gunn. "So are you!" she added loudly. "Am I...?" She couldn't even bring herself to say it out loud.

"Um... Angel!" Cordelia called over her shoulder. "You might wanna get in here!"

Angel was at the door in a second, and by the chaise lounge in another, dropping down to examine Faith closely. "Faith?" he asked slowly. "Are you okay?"

"God, Angel, you're dead too?" she asked thickly.

Angel shot Cordy and Gunn a questioning look. "She thinks she's dead, because we're supposed to be," Cordy supplied simply. She looked at Faith, "Things change, sweetheart."

"Cordy, shut up," Angel tossed at her carelessly. He turned back to the Slayer. "Faith, you're not dead, but you've missed a lot. It's going to be a lot to take in, but I..." He took a deep breath. "The Oracles granted us our fallen teammates back. That's why Cordelia and Gunn are here. But you didn't die. Kennedy, Gunn, Spike... they saved your life. They saved you, and you're okay now."

Faith blinked several times, silent long enough for Angel to begin worrying about her. "I'm not dead," she stated, trying to wade through what she'd just been told. "But they are,"-she shot a look at Cordelia and Gunn- "and I'm back home." She winced inwardly at the last word, still getting accustomed to having a place to call 'home'.

Angel, Cordelia, and Gunn gave her sympathetic nods. "We're glad you're awake, Faith," Gunn told her genuinely, touching her hand lightly.

She took down at Gunn's hand holding hers, feeling somehow comforted and trapped all at once. Sensations she hadn't felt in a long time beginning to resurface, undiluted and undefined. She shoved them down hurriedly; now was so not the time for that.

"We have to go to a staff meeting, but we'll be back soon," Angel assured her. "Stay here and rest. We'll give you some pain killers." He pressed a button near her head, then gave her a soft look and led his two partners out of the room.

Faith was asleep before the meeting ever began.

**-III-**

By day, Connor, Jillian, and Dawn had been helping with the research . By night, they went over any spell or incantation that would bring them even remotely close to expelling Illyria from Fred's body and putting Fred's soul back inside, unbeknownst to their elders. Each day and night brought them closer together despite any results, good or bad, regarding their research.

It was on the eleventh night, when Dawn, Connor, and Jillian were going over their researched methods of bringing Fred back, that they noticed something.

It was nearly two in the morning and Dawn and Jillian had a ten a.m. training session, which they should have been resting for. Instead, they were going over the plan for the millionth time; Connor starting with the spell to trap Illyria's soul in an alternative plain of existence, Jillian figuring out how to re-procure Fred's internal organs and send her soul back into herself, and Dawn getting a post-midnight snack from the pantry.

"Oh my God," Jillian said, her voice becoming more ecstatic with each word.

"What?" Connor asked, getting excited himself though he didn't have a reason other than Jillian.

"Oh..." Jillian's voice was less enthusiastic now, as her eyes scanned the page. "Uh-oh."

"What?" Connor demanded, suddenly alarmed.

Jillian looked up at Connor with a grave expression on her face. "Connor get everyone in the conference room," she ordered him, standing up.

"Now?" he questioned incredulously.

"Now," she called over her shoulder as she sprinted out the door

**-IV-**

"This had better bloody-well be good, young Wyndham-Pryce," Spike complained, rubbing his temples. "I was just about to rob a blood bank when I got your call. So make it quick."

"Spike," Kennedy groaned exhaustedly. "Will you shut the hell up? She's getting to it." Kennedy let her head fall into her folded arms on the table.

"Alright! Alright!" Jillian exclaimed, holding her hands up as indication for them all to back off. "I think I may have found something to point us in the right direction." Everyone's eyes fell solely on Jill, their attention undivided.

"Um, okay, well..." She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Every year there are days marked to signify the changing of seasons. The summer and winter solstices and spring and autumn equinoxes. Normally, these days land in June, December, March, and September, which they still do this year... but there's a difference. Normally the Summer Solstice would land somewhere around the twenty-second, but next year it lands on the sixth.

"Every six hundred years, when the summer solstice begins on the sixth day of the sixth month, Evil has an upper-hand advantage. For some reason, the fact that a solstice isn't on a twenty-first or twenty-second declares abnormality, it tips the balance from Good and creates a window to Evil for twenty-four hours."

"Um... that's really... well... awful, sis... but what gives them the upper-hand? What makes us weaker?" Kennedy asked tiredly.

Jillian looked at the text. "One thing most people didn't know," Jillian began, setting a slide into the projector in the dim lighting of the room, "is that the pentagram wasn't always a sign of Black Magic and Evil. It actually originally belonged to Good. However, on the sixth day of the sixth month 4008 B.C. evil used it in one of their rituals to shed human blood and turn a human into a demon. Ever since then, the pentagram has been linked to Evil.

"It's not that we become _weaker_," Jillian explained emphatically, pacing before them. "It's that they get _stronger_. For one day every six hundred years, Evil gains strength because that was the day that they turned something Good into theirs. They, not only stole the pentagram, but also took an innocent vessel and turned it into something different. Something... vampyric?" She acknowledge their looks of realization.

"Three figure types in particular were present at that event: Wolf, Ram, and Hart. This day makes them stronger, because this is the day the Senior Partners created a new type of monster- a hybrid. Inside it was pure demonic energy, but on the outside it looked human and good."

"So... what? On the sixth day of the sixth month every six hundred years all the Evil creatures get together to party?" Buffy joked skeptically.

"Exactly," Dawn reinforced, looking straight at her sister. "Only now Evil has a new plan: use their combined and increased strength in these twenty-four hours to wipe all of us out."

"And by 'all of us', she means all of _us_," Connor said, gesturing around the room. "Every Slayer, every remaining Watcher, every Good witch, every mortal being fighting against Evil... we'll all be targeted."

"Their goal is pretty damn simple," Jillian declared simply. "Kill as many of us as they can in the next six months without getting killed themselves, and then kill the rest of us on the Solstice and put Evil back on top. Suck the majority of the human race dry and treat the rest like cattle. Breed, kill, feed. "

Everyone sat in horrified shock as they let what Jillian, Connor, and Dawn had come up with. Then Angel stood up, slamming his hands down on the table loudly and causing the whole room to shake.

"Dammit!" he yelled. Her shot a look at Jillian, "And they'll start in L.A.? Why here?"

"Because we're here," Connor justified plainly. "That's why the new Hellmouth has been opening." He met his father's confused glance with a grim smirk. "Oh, come on, Dad! You and this... organization that you've put together, not to mention the fact that now Buffy and her gang are here? We are the _most powerful_ force against Evil that the world knows right now."

"But they'll just start the attacks in L.A.," Dawn added. She looked at her sister, "They'll spread worldwide. Their convergence, their center? That's here, sure, but Evil exists all around the world. And on June 6th, 2008, they're going to _slaughter_ us. Everyone."

"Spike and Buffy? We'll go to patrol and track down some leads tonight," Angel said, jumping into action. "Jillian, Connor, Gunn, and Dawn will hit the streets tomorrow night. After that it'll be Kennedy, Nina, Oz, and Xander. Faith is probably gonna want to jump in at some point, but I'm not going to be the one to tell her what to do."

"We have people here, guys. No one is alone in this, and we can't isolate ourselves," Dawn told them all. "The other side will take advantage of that. We're stronger when we're together."

"Okay," Angel went on. "Everyone except for Buffy, Spike, and I are going to get a good night's rest tonight. We'll meet again tomorrow, during dinner, and go over what we've found." He looked at them all conclusively. "Dawn's right. Stick together. Meeting adjourned."

Buffy and Spike looked at each other briefly before walking over to Angel, who was standing and talking to Kennedy, Nina, and Oz.

"Oz and Nina, stick together and stay in the basement tonight. It's a wolf moon, and I want to know that you two are safe. Change or no change," he ordered them. "Kennedy, go to Nina's tonight and get Charlotte and Amanda. Bring them here, and keep them out of the basement."

Kennedy nodded, nudging Oz and Nina gently into motion. They split off in the lobby, Oz and Nina heading toward the steel vaulted doors of the the basement and Kennedy to the front to get Charlotte, Nina's older sister, and Charlotte's daughter, Amanda.

"So... we're patrolling tonight, huh?" Buffy murmured awkwardly.

"I hope that's okay," Angel replied quickly. "We're going to need our power team the first night."

"Hopefully some bloke at Barney's will be to drunk to know what he's saying and spill more on our Big Bads' evil scheme," Spike added gleefully.

"Barney's?" Buffy questioned skeptically.

"Demon bar," Angel answered simply.

"Roughest one from 'ere to Santa Barbara," Spike explained. "Ought to be an interesting evening."

Angel and Buffy exchanged rueful looks.

**-V-**

Giles gave Willow a soft, fatherly look as she yawned later that night. The redhead couldn't hide that she was exhausted any longer, and she could see the same effects in the rest of their research brigade.

"Perhaps you all should go get a good night's sleep, as Dawn ordered earlier," he suggested, peering at his Wicca daughter-figures, then to Cordelia and Wesley. His eyes didn't meet Jenny's contented gaze.

Cordelia yawned dramatically. "You don't have to tell me twice, Giles," she announced, stretching. "I am going back to my room for a nice, soothing bubble bath and a good eight hours of beauty sleep." With that, she bid good night to Giles, Jenny, and the witches, gave Wesley a sisterly hug and walked out of the library.

"I think I shall retire as well," Wesley agreed. "I'll not be of much use tomorrow, if I don't get some rest now. Good night, all."

Tara looked at Willow, who yawned widely again. "Sleepy, baby?" she asked in a quiet voice, sparing Mr. Giles and Ms. Calendar. Willow nodded slowly. "Come on," Tara told her, "you need to sleep."

They followed Cordelia and Wesley out of the room, leaving only Giles and Jenny sitting there. Neither looked at each other for a moment, but in an instant, they looked up at the same time and caught each others' expressions.

"Are you going to bed now as well, Mr. Giles?" Jenny asked politely, her eyes locked on his as if by some mystical force. She could tear her gaze away.

"No, no," Giles objected softly. "I'm quite alright. I just wanted my charges to get some rest. They were looking a bit worse for the wear, wouldn't you agree?"

Jenny came to sit down in the seat beside Giles. She looked at him and, in her eyes, Giles saw a life that could have been, if not for Angelus. Jenny Calendar, though Janna was indeed her given name, might very well have been The One, and yet their opportunity to find out had been cut short. It had taken Rupert Giles a long time to move on from it, and still, he thought as he sat there, he still saw what could have been when he looked in her eyes.

"That spark," Jenny laughed softly, leaning in toward him. "Even after all these years... it never went away, you know. Not for me anyway."

"Nor for me," Giles agreed, leaning in farther toward her. "Jenny... if I had known... what was to happen..."

"Ssh," she quieted him, putting her slender fingers to his lips. "I know. I grieved for you, just as you grieved for me."

He looked at her with an idea in his eyes. "Would it be possible for me to...?" he began to ask.

"Ssh," she repeated. "Rupert... why don't you just kiss me?"

And so he did, fulfilling the fantasies he'd been unwittingly holding for eight years.

**-VI-**

Spike pinched the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back in the crisp September air of Los Angeles. "Damn! That last bugger really got me," he announced to his two companion.

Buffy rubbed her neck tenderly. "I know the feeling," she agreed.

"But at least now we have a few names to go off of," Angel argued, looking to the bright side of the situation.

They'd completely gotten their butts kicked inside Barney's, considering the place was maxed out with demons of every clan and variety. Spike had gotten his nose displaced twice, Buffy had been thrown into cement wall, and Angel had taken a couple dozen blows to the stomach. Fortunately, the nomadic demons on the streets provided more intel from their masters before Buffy decided to take them out. They'd only let one go, and that was only because he assured them that he could get a message straight to their Big Bads.

"These momma-demons have got creativity, I'll give them that much," Buffy remarked sourly. "Tridon, Nicarstros, and, my all-time favorite, Ginisnfni." She laughed harshly.

"So... we know we're dealing with at least your garden variety vamps, demons, and warlocks. What else do you reckon they've got in store for us?" Spike inquired conversationally. "Oh, bloody hell, you don't suppose they have Gods behind them, do you?"

"At this point?" Angel remarked. "I wouldn't underestimate them. They've got some powerhouse players stepping up to the plate, but so do we. Fight fire with fire."

Spike stopped dead and looked at his fellow vampire and The Slayer nervously. "You're not talking about _real_ fire, right?" he demanded cowardishly. "'Cause real fire could mean trouble for _us_, Angel."

Angel exchanged another wayward look at Buffy, grinning ear to ear. "No, Spike. I can definitely see the complications of using _real_ fire," Angel teased mirthfully. "No, I mean, let's introduce them to a triple-dose of Slayers, two vampires with souls, nearly a half-a-dozen magically qualified people, and some mortals with fighting skills like they've never seen before."

"You're saying you think we have a chance at beating these prats?" Spike questioned around a cigarette he was trying to light. He finally managed to catch the cigarette and tossed the match to the ground, crushing it under the sole of his combat boot.

"He's saying," Buffy began emphatically, "that they have no idea what they're up against." She smirked happily. "Not a clue in the world."

"You're not afraid of losing any of your lot?" Spike asked her, exhaling a thick trail of white smoke.

She stopped in front of a convenience store, pulling the boys to a stop as well. She eyed Spike seriously. "I'm _always_ afraid of losing them, Spike," she informed him seriously. "Not a second goes by in my life where I wonder if it hadn't of been better if they'd never met me. Willow, Xander, Dawn, Tara, the two of you even, I'm constantly afraid of losing any of you, but we still have a war to win, and I intend to do just that. Win it."


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-

Kennedy banged her head repeatedly on the desk until she heard someone clear their throat in the midst of her office. She looked up to find Jillian standing in front of Dawn and Connor, all looking at her disapprovingly.

"You can't beat yourself up for this, Kenn," Dawn began quietly. "It won't make things better."

She looked at her young, brunette friend, saw her piercing blue eyes and the fear that was in them. Dawn was young and scared right now, but she was still acting brave. No, not _acting brave_, Dawn was _being courageous._ She was putting her own insecurities and fears aside to fight what could very well be a losing battle.

"Dawnie's right, Kennedy," Jillian said, pulling her long, blonde hair away from her face absently. "We need to train, we need to patrol, we need to kill as many demons as possible every night for the next ten months, we need to recruit more people for our side. Slamming your head repeatedly isn't going to do anything more than kill your very valuable brain cells." Jillian smile broke through her resolve face, which had only slightly been diluted by the worry in her pale blue eyes.

Kennedy mustered a wry smile. "When did you get so smart and _mature_?" she demanded of her sister jokingly.

Jillian shrugged, throwing an arm around each of her two best friends. "I don't know, sis," she replied calmly. "Your best bet would be to ask my family." She squeezed Dawn and Connor.

Kennedy nodded composedly. "I'll call Rona and Vi," she announced.

"Should we get Lorne? Or Illyria?" Jillian asked sagely. She was taking a backseat to her older sister's plan, if only to avoid Angel's inevitable wrath which Kennedy seemed so immune to.

"Call Lorne," Kennedy confirmed. "We'll hold off on Illyria for as long as we can. I don't like the idea of her being around here too much."

Kennedy looked at her younger sister and the rest of their younger generation.

"I'd ask if you wanted Jenny to try to drum up some support from her gypsy relatives, but I don't think an attempt on his life is what Angel needs right now," Dawn half-joked.

Kennedy sighed rubbing her forehead and then looked from Angel's son to her sister. "How exactly did you guys find this stuff anyway?" she demanded. Her voice sounded angry, but Jillian knew from experience that she was only wary and exhausted.

She glanced guiltily at Connor, deciding honesty was probably the best policy, even if Kennedy reamed her for the truth. "We... well, we found a way to put Fred's soul back in her body,"  
Jillian explained. Then, seeing the look on her sister's face, she continued hurriedly, "We were double-checking everything, making sure we could based all our power for what needed to be done in Light. You know, no Dark magic, and then I saw this prophecy and I knew that this was what they were planning." She paused, taking in her sister's deflated demeanor. "Are you angry?"

Kennedy thought about it. "No. But you need to be careful," she warned her sister. "You're nineteen and you can make your own decisions, but don't let Wes know what you're doing and don't let Illyria find out. If at all possible... find Illyria another vessel. Not an innocent, but something else. Transfer the energy, you can't destroy her soul once it's been solidified, which it has after being in Fred's body for so long."

"Wouldn't we need a Necromancer for something like that?"Connor asked heavily, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes.

"No, it doesn't take a human body to release Illyria's essence into," Kennedy explained to them. "Put Fred back and shift Illyria to a demonic body... just make sure to bind the powers of the demon prior to it. Otherwise we could have quite a mess."

The three of them nodded, and turned to go out of Kennedy's office.

"And don't tell Angel that I let you guys do this," she yelled after them.

**-II-**

Faith was officially back to her normal badass-kicking-self, which surprisingly gave Buffy a small piece of mind. She could see that the Dark Slayer had softened up a bit, even since Buffy had last seen her and they looked at each other as equals, allies instead of enemies now. Buffy began to fall into a pattern of regaining trust for Faith as she worked side-by-side with the girl for the first time in years.

"Kennedy seems to really be kicking ass at this whole 'leader' thing, eh?" Faith asked her one day as they observed Kennedy training Dawn in some high-low combinations. "I mean, I know she came here to get away from Red and stuff, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all."

Buffy looked over at her dark-haired counterpart and smiled. "You don't seem to be doing so bad at the 'staying-outta-trouble' thing either," she comment casually.

Faith smirked. "I'm still a badass and you know it," she shot back confidently. She sighed then, regaining seriousness, "In all honesty, and you know I'm not so good at the honesty stuff, I didn't like how I was. I mean... Robin, you know, he... changed things," she explained calmly, but there was a bitter scent to her tone. "When he died, I just kind of felt like..."

"Like there was no one else in the world left to believe in you," Buffy finished for her, realizing Faith's dilemma.

The dark-haired girl sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Yep. But, I mean, then Angel came around- _again_- and offered me a place on his squad but said I could still roam around and do my own thing and get paid for it." Faith looked at Buffy seriously. "It gave me some time to think, you know? And I kinda figured out that he saw something in me. Something good. I figured, 'hey, maybe I could make someone else see it to'."

Buffy looked back to their raven-haired friend on the training room floor, sparring with the younger Summers. "I always did, you know," Buffy said.

Faith turned to look at her oddly, but Buffy kept her face forward as she huffed out a sigh. "God, I spent so much time hating you, Faith," she sighed frustratedly. "I mean you were... well, kind of psychotic actually. But there was good there. You had strength and steel and a lust for slaying, but you had brains too. You just saw the world as what it was, rather than what it could be. You had good in you, Faith, I just hated you because you wouldn't wake up and realize it." Buffy finally turned to look at Faith. "I'm just glad you have now. I kinda like not wanting to kill you all the time."

Faith smirked. "Me too, B," she said, glancing back at the other below her. "Me too."

"And Gunn's a great guy, you know," Buffy added nonchalantly. "He came from rough circumstances, started his own gang slaying vamps, became a part of Angel Investigations, got his mind messed with by Wolfram&Hart. He's just... I don't know, I just like Gunn. He's cool and aloof, but he's got the fire in him, you know?"

Faith squared her shoulders play-threateningly at Buffy. "And _how_ did Charles Gunn come into this conversation?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, c'mon, Faith," Buffy groaned petulantly. "It's so obvious that he's into you, and not just in the 'Oh-my-God-she's-hot-I-wanna-sleep-with-her' way. Mark my words, give it a week and he'll be wondering if you don't want to go on a date with him."

Faith's face fell. "We'll see, I guess," she muttered. Buffy gave her a questioning look. "Guys don't exactly like me for my brains, Buffy. I'm not all cute and cuddly, I'm... Faith, you know, rough around the edges."

Buffy made a 'tsk-tsk' at her counterpart. "Robin liked you for your mind. And I highly doubt Gunn's just looking for a good time, Faith," she reprimanded the girl in a sisterly tone. "He barely left your side while you were still all mangled and mending," she added in a softer voice.

Faith got a far off look. "It's been almost a year since that bastard-vamp sucked Wood to death," she murmured, swallowing. "He was different, you know? I can't just let myself think that Gunn and Robin have that one thing in common and be disappointed when he's just like every other guy I've met."

Buffy contemplated Faith's unusual exhibit of emotion. It put an edge on Faith that Buffy didn't know existed and made her seem more human and fragile, unlike the hard-bodied, hard-headed warrior everyone normally saw of her. It reminded Buffy that even the toughest of her girls were not invincible. She just didn't know if that made the situation better or worse.

**-III-**

Angel had a meeting later that day with Kennedy, Buffy, Wesley, Giles, Dawn, Jillian and Connor. He noticed the way that his son, as well as Buffy, seemed to stay close to the two young women. Wesley and Giles stayed grouped together, the two former-Watchers remained alert and expectant as the crowd filtered.

"So," Angel began, looking around the study at them carefully, "I called a meeting with just the handful of ourselves for a reason.

"We have just over five months until our worlds come crashing down around us. The Hyperion is welcome to anyone who wishes to be here, but our battle is a ways off and we have time, if anyone wanted to get out of the madness for awhile." He looked at Buffy and Giles, "You could go settle with your Slayers back in Cleveland, and tell them about what's going on where they feel safe. Maybe... you could contact the ones who are spread out, give them the situation and tell them to be prepared an keep their heads up. Slayers are powerful beings of good, our enemies will be after them as well."

Buffy spoke up then. "I'll fly to Cleveland for a week," she bargained. "I'll have Andrew, Caridad, Leah, Renee, and Shannon hold down the fort back in Ohio. I'll talk to them, tell them to prepare the troops there." She looked at Angel with a ferocity in her eyes, "Then I'm coming back here. End of story."

He nodded resignedly and looked to Wesley, Kennedy, and Jillian, "The three of you should go visit your family. We don't know what's to happen and I don't want you feeling like you have to stay here when you should be with them."

Jillian and Kennedy shook their heads simultaneously. "Our family is here, Angel," Kennedy told him seriously.

"Our friends are here too," Jillian added, looping an arm around each of Dawn and Connor's shoulders. She looked at them both in turn, "If I'm going to London, then they're coming with me." Her tone told Angel that this was non-negotiable, and he turned to Dawn's big sister for help.

Buffy only shrugged. "Dawn's a big girl," she stated simply. "If she wants to go to London for a few days, I'm not going to stop her." She paused a moment. "Connor's an adult too," she reminded her long-time friend.

Kennedy jumped in then. "I'll take them to England, but I'm leaving after a few days," she told her boss seriously, leaning against the table. "I've got a few more stops to make on my way back to The States. Satsu is in Tokyo, Chao-Ahn is in China, and I'm not sure where Rona and Vi are... But I'll find them and talk to them in person. Then I'll be back here."

Angel groaned. "Fine," he snapped. He looked to his previous right-hand and boss. "Wesley?"

The Brit seemed to consider it for a few moments. "I don't like the idea of spending time with my father... but I need to see my mother before we do this," he said decidedly. "But I'll be back with Kennedy. That is," he added quickly, looking at his sister, "if you don't mind my tagging along on your adventure."

She smiled good-naturedly. "Actually, I could use the back-up," she reasoned. She looked to Buffy and Angel, "I might take Gunn and Faith with me. Faith is an Original, as we call you guys, and Gunn and Wesley work well together."

The two nodded their consent. Buffy had a gleam of pride for the girl standing in front of her, she was proud of the way Kennedy thought and acted, so cool and reasonable. Angel was grudging, of all his teammates, Charles Gunn was the one he wanted gone the least, but he knew that Kennedy was right.

Angel sighed, rubbing her temples. "Okay... So Kennedy and Wesley will be taking Faith and Gunn around to the Slayer squads, Buffy and Giles will go to Cleveland to straighten things out there and Jillian, Dawn, and Connor are going to London for... how long exactly?"

Jillian looked to Dawn and Connor, who each shrugged. Jillian looked at Angel, "A few weeks maybe," she said. "There are a few things I need to fix over there before I come home."

He looked at the two Slayers. "Giles, Buffy, Kenn, why don't you figure out where everyone is and draw up some strategy," he suggested. "Wesley, let Faith and Gunn know where they'll be going and what they'll need. Littles, pack your bags." He said the last part to Jillian, Dawn, and Connor, all three groaning at the unwanted nickname.

**-IV-**

So... wait, how long has Rona been in Cairo?" Kennedy demanded of Buffy. She was confused a slightly disappointed that she hadn't taken the time to stay in touch with her fellow Slayers, not to mention _friends,_ since coming to L.A. "And, I mean, since when has Vi been taking over the base in New York?"

Buffy chuckled lightly under her breath. "About the same time that you took over base of operation here in Los Angeles," she supplied carefully. It was apparent that Kennedy was upset. "They spent a couple months in Ireland together, trying to find more Slayers, but... I don't know, they just... I don't know."

"When I left..." Kennedy tried to tell Buffy what had happened without really _telling_ Buffy what had happened. "Vi was starting to get that she had feelings for Rona. I don't know, maybe that had nothing to do with it. Maybe they just... spent too much time together or something."

Buffy nodded, trying to process this the same way she process Willow coming out or Kennedy making clear that she was gay or finding out that Tara was in love with her best friend. It was truly the same thing, but in some ways, it was different because of the mystical connections she had to both girls. Maybe it would have been better if they'd gotten together, instead of drifting apart.

Kennedy cleared her throat, bringing Buffy out of her reverie. Buffy looked hard and long at the woman standing in front of her. Kennedy had always been acutely intuitive and instinctive, if not occasionally over-zealous. She had a dark beauty about her, but she was different now; more level-headed and wise, Buffy now looked at Kennedy much the same as she looked at Faith lately- as an equal.

"I owe you everything, Kennedy," Buffy told her suddenly, surprising herself by voicing her own thoughts. "You took care of Dawn, you looked out for Angel and Spike and even Faith, you loved Willow enough to let her go.

"When I first met you... God, you were so 'gung-ho' about the whole Slayer-thing. You were rash and self-confident and, if I'm honest with myself, your talent was raw. But, I mean... look at you now. You don't go running into battle half-cocked: you're strategic, conditioned, and detailed, but you've still got your old bravery and strength and heart. You used to be so rough-around-the-edges, and now... when I watch you with Dawn and Jillian... you're so... gentle and friendly, but you're still firm and stern with them, and they look up to you." Buffy looked at the dark-haired Slayer for a long time. "I'm really proud of you... Kenn."

Kennedy smirked, but Buffy could see the pride and gratitude in her eyes. In Kennedy, Buffy now saw what she used to be: confident, a little self-righteous, and talented. It gave her hope for the rest of her girls.

"I had a good leader, _Buff_," Kennedy returned, still smirking. "I didn't always back you one-hundred-percent, and I'm sorry for that, but you taught me a lot and you showed me what it meant to be a Slayer. I'll never forget that."

Buffy smiled. Was it something in the water here? All of her fellow Slayers, if not _her_, getting all sentimental and cornball-y?

"Alright, enough with the mushy stuff," Buffy announced. "I'm heading to Cleveland next week," she added, all business now. "I'm only planning on staying four days, but, if the situation demands it, I may stay longer. I'll help you figure out the easiest route and itinerary for meeting with all the squadrons. It may take you a few weeks." Buffy said the last part in a warning tone.

Kennedy shrugged. "They're my girls too, Buffy," the brunette said passively. "Besides, I kinda miss them."

"Not seeing any of them for two years does that," Buffy told her chastely. She didn't want Kennedy to feel like the blonde was patronizing her.

"Yeah, I guess it does," Kennedy responded with a sigh.

There was a knock on the doorway then and an unfamiliar face appeared from the hallway. The girl was smallish, but hard-bodied and attractive. Her oval-shaped face was framed by curtains of long, wavy, bright golden blonde hair and her deep-set eyes were the most striking shade of amber but were flecked with sapphire and emerald. She had a straight, dainty nose, and the corners of her mouth were turned upward in a heartfelt grin.

Kennedy and Buffy immediately stood at attention, Kennedy recognizing the newest blonde immediately.

The flaxen-haired woman flashed a badge at them, but it wasn't threatening. "Detective Savannah Evans of the Los Angeles Police Department," she greeted them upon entering. "I'm looking for a Kennedy Pryce." She eyes landed on Kennedy, "I'm guessing that's you?"

Kennedy nodded, stepping forward bravely and shaking the woman's hand. The hairs at the back of her neck prickled at the contact, but not in any ominous way. "Come in, Detective," Kennedy offered, pointing to a her red leather chair. Kennedy came to lean on one side of her desk, while Buffy sat in Kennedy's chair behind it. "What can I do for you this evening?"

Savannah's eyes dropped as she realized the raven-haired girl's smoldering gaze. "I apologize for coming so late, Miss Pryce," she said, glancing apprehensively at the other blonde behind the desk.

Kennedy caught the motion and looked back at Buffy. "Oh, Detective Evans, this is Buffy Summers," Kennedy introduced them. "She's helping me on _my_ case."

Savannah nodded. "I was wondering if I might have a private word with you, Miss Pryce?" she asked cautiously, watching the brunette's movements.

Kennedy turned back to Buffy and nodded. Buffy pushed herself up and left the room with one last warning look, before closing the door behind her. Kennedy didn't move from her spot.

"Please, Detective, call me Kennedy," she offered confidently. "I have nothing to hide from you, and you seem like a smart woman anyway."

"How can you tell, _Kennedy_?" Savannah asked challengingly.

Kennedy peered down, catching her gaze and refusing to break it. Either she was threatening the cop or she was flirting with her, she really hadn't figured it out for herself yet. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

"You can tell a lot about a person by looking into their eyes," Kennedy admitted, turning away then. "I know that you're here because of what you saw in the alley the other day, I know that it isn't the first time you've seen something of that nature, and I know that you're neither afraid or threatened by me, only curious." Kennedy paused again. "Oh, and I know you feel attracted to me."

Savannah was caught off-guard to say the least. "A-and how, might I ask, do you know all of that?" she demanded, sounding more solid than she felt.

Kennedy smirked wickedly. "I know people, Savannah," the brunette told her. She paused, "You don't mind if I call you Savannah, do you?"

Savannah smirked in return. "We might as well be on a first-name basis, I guess," she fired back in return. "That is, if we have nothing to fear from each other."

"I'm not afraid of you," Kennedy stated simply. "Hell," she added with a laugh, "I'm not even threatened by you. You're only looking for the same thing I am, Savannah."

Savannah now saw that Kennedy Pryce had officially lost her. The girl was witty and deep and obviously used to ambushes. "And what might that be, Kennedy?" she asked her, genuine curiosity finding its way into her voice.

"Answers," Kennedy replied simply.

**-V-**

"So you guys are seriously just going to up and leave school?" Connor demanded from the hallway. He was standing, leaning against the hall opposite the girls' side-by-side bedrooms, so that he could see each of them packing frantically.

"Yep," they both answered instantly, a bit of annoyance in their voices.

"We'll e-mail our teachers and call the registry office," Jillian said, shoving a sweatshirt into a suitcase.

"What about... well, how do you know when you'll be going back?" Connor inquired, trying to reason with them.

Dawn loved Connor, but he just wasn't getting it. They could die in a few months and Jillian needed to see her parents, if only because it could be the last time she would. They couldn't split up, and Jillian and Dawn _wouldn't_ split up, never before and certainly not when they mere months away from a swarm of demons trying to over-power them. She allowed him a short amount of leeway, since he was new and all, but the girls were best friends. Live together, die together, always there for one another, best friends.

"If you don't want to go, Connor, we're not making you," Jillian snapped from the room next to her. Dawn could almost feel Jill's anger as if it were her own. She knew Jilly liked Con, and that it must have hurt to have him trying to talk them out of going.

She shot him a look over her shoulder, but he wasn't looking. Jill's comment had stopped him in his metaphorical tracks. He looked at Dawn quickly, then ducked into Jill's room to talk to her quietly and privately.

Dawn went back to packing. Jeans, shirts, crosses, sweaters, stakes, sneakers, some dressy stuff just in case, holy water, undergarments, books they may need, papers of information they'd strung together, accessories, toiletries. She paused, trying to think about what else she would need.

She only stopped when she sensed someone outside her door. It seemed to her lately, that the older she got, the more attuned to everything she became. She looked up to see Xander standing there.

"Hey, Xand," she greeted him lightly. The past few days had been tense between them, especially after the conversation in the hallway.

"Hi, Dawnie," he replied in a faux-bright voice. "Whatcha packing for?" Xander asked her curiously.

"London," she told him, turning to sit on her suitcase to make it close. "We figure, we have a good four months before all Hell breaks loose- literally- so we're going to see Jillian's parents." Dawn paused, considering the situation and wondering why she felt so tense around Xander these days. "I think Buffy was planning on taking you to Cleveland with her to check up on your newbie Slayers. Kennedy was gonna go check on the squadrons, explain what's going on, help the captains figure out some strategies for taking these guys out, you know?"

"What were they planning on doing with Willow and Tara?" he asked casually, stepping closer to Dawn.

"I dunno exactly," she replied. "I don't think there will be very many of us left here. Oz and Nina are going back to Tibet for a bit, trying to regain some center-y-ness. Kennedy's taking Gunn, Faith, and Wesley with her after we leave London. Buffy and Giles are planning on going home, presumably with you. Should be just Angel, Spike, Cordy, Ms. Calendar, and a few others."

"So, we're all going our separate way again?" he asked bitterly. His face did little to hide his emotions as well. He didn't want to leave Dawn again.

Dawn stepped forward. "We don't have a choice, Xand," she told him reasonably. "The world is ending and there's a lot at stake here."

"Dawnie, the world is _always_ ending," Xander argued with her. He turned his face, but not his body, away from her. "I'm just so sick of us putting our lives on hold for Evil. I mean, even when we win, we still lose!" He looked at her seriously. "You've grown up on us. You're twenty years old now and I've known you since you were ten. When I look at you, I don't see Little Dawnie anymore. It's like, you're so different! You're beautiful and strong and relentless and brave and you actually _fight_ demons now. We can't protect you anymore and I don't know what to do with myself! And... and..."

Dawn cautiously placed her fingers over Xander's lips, shushing him. "Xander, you're starting to sound like Willow with the babbling," she warned him. Her face softened, "And I'm still me. I'm still Dawn. I just... I had to grow up. I had to change and become my own person. I couldn't be 'Little Dawnie Summers' forever. And I like who I am now-"

"I _love_ who you are now," Xander admitted, interrupting her. He turned away, but as he walked out the door, he stopped and turned to look at her. "That's why I don't know what to do with myself," he said, then he walked out the door.

Dawn just stared after him, wondering if she'd imagined it all.

**-VI-**

"I need to go to England," Willow blurted as soon as she had walked into Buffy's room. "I need to be prepared for this," she elaborated. "For whatever is coming. I need to be able to use magic on-spot like I used to, without getting addicted and turning into Dark Willow all over again." The redhead paused. "Buffy, I need to see the coven for awhile."

The Slayer nodded understandingly. "Giles will go with you for awhile then," she said, her tone telling Willow that is wasn't an option. "He'll get you settled and then he'll come to Cleveland. He's already in on it."

Willow took a step back in surprise. "Wait a minute, how is _he_ already in on it?" she demanded confusedly. "_I_ didn't even know until a few minutes ago." She looked at her best friend in happy realization. "You knew I was gonna do this, didn't you?"

Buffy shrugged it off. "You're my Willow, Will," she said, touching the redhead's forearm. "I know you. I know you and I know what the coven witches mean to you, which is why I know you'll be taking Tara to meet them."

A stricken look came over Willow's face. "I hadn't decided on that yet," she admitted. "I'm not sure if she and I are ready for a trip to England together with all the romance-y stuff.

The Slayer shot her friend an exasperated look. "It's business," she said plainly, before getting an impish smirk on her face. "And if this business escalades to... _pleasure_...then is that really a bad thing?"

Willow shrugged. "I just don't know if I'm ready," she murmured abashedly.

"It's Tara, Will," Buffy reminded her. "Just... tell her how you feel. She'll understand."

The red-haired witch nodded and turned to leave. "Thanks, Buffy," she called over her shoulder.

"Hey, Will!" the blonde called after her, not waiting for her friend to stop before running forward and throwing her arms around the witch. "I love you," she told her best friend. "Give it time. It'll work out."

Buffy felt Willow nod against her shoulder, but she could sense the redhead's hesitation.

**-VII-**

It took a week for the Scoobies and Fang Gang to get all their flights arranged. Oz and Nina left for Tibet after finally getting in touch with the monastery and tell. Jillian, Dawn, and Connor, who seemed to be back in good standings, left for England the day after Oz and Nina boarded for Lhasa, promising to pick Kennedy, Wes, Faith, and Gunn up at the airport in a week. Angel surveyed the quickly emptying Hyperion, wondering if it were going to go back to its lonely existence of only a few people.

"Don't worry, we'll be back," Buffy said, as if reading Angel's thoughts, as she came to lean against the banister over the lobby where Angel had planted himself.

He looked at her and smiled. "I know," he answered softly. "It's just..." he trailed off in frustration. "Did you know that Kennedy has never left L.A. since you allowed her to come here? Not once."

Buffy nodded in realization. "And you've gotten used to having your right-hand around," Buffy finished for him.

He nodded. "I know that I wanted my team away from all the chaos for awhile, but watching them go is..." Again, he was at a lost for words.

"Hard? Grueling? Heart-wrenching? Anxiety-inducing?" Buffy supplied, sending him a wry smile. She turned to lean her back against the railing, while Angel still had his elbows propped against it. "I know that feeling, Angel," she admitted to him. "I feel it every time I realize that one of my girls is ready to leave training and go out to join a squad or, even worse yet, start one of their own. I felt it with Kennedy too." Buffy sighed resignedly. "She was one of the best from the get-go. An amazing fighter with good instincts and a ton of heart."

"She was aimless when she first came here," Angel reminisced, "but... then she and Dawn, and Nina and Jillian all became so close and... I don't know, I guess she found her place."

Buffy looked at Angel as if she were debating something, then she relented. "When all of this is said and done, if we make it out of this alive," Buffy began quietly. "I might take Kennedy and Dawn away from you, if they're willing, and send you some new girls."

Angel gave her an odd look. "Okay..." he said slowly, choosing to trust Buffy, "but what's that gonna-"

"Dawn _needs_ to finish college," Buffy sighed. "She's been mixed up in this crazy world for so long and I just... I want her to have something normal for a change. I want her to finish school, and I know she wants to be a Watcher. Who knows? Maybe she'll take Willow's place as the Head of The Council someday.

"And Kennedy... she's so smart and strong and feisty. She knows how this game is played, she knows how to train clueless girls, and she's determined and relentless. Caridad, Andrew, Shannon... they're good, but they're not Kennedy good. And I need a break, Angel. I want her to take over for me."

Angel looked up when he heard Buffy's voice crack, and he saw tears in her eyes. She barked out a watery laugh. "I'll always be The Slayer, but... it's time to let someone else deal with this."- she gestured to below them- "I'm ready to sit back and supervise now. I'll never be able to fully quit. The Slayer is part of who I am, but I need something else. Faith will never be trustworthy enough to take over operations, but Kennedy already is and she's _good_. I was supposed to die a couple deaths ago, let someone else take my place. I'm just choosing after this to step down and let Kennedy take charge. But I need you to be okay with that." She looked at him cautiously.

He stared hard ahead of him, not meeting her eyes. He pulled something from within his pocket and handed it to her. She eyed it carefully.

"What's this?" She asked him, fingering the envelope.

"It's a deed," he replied simply.

"To...?"

"Open it up and look," he ordered her.

Buffy opened the letter almost silently, reading every word carefully and then once more to be sure she'd read right. "The Hyperion?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "This place is large to train your girls," he responded softly. He turned his head to look at her for the first time in minutes. "For _you_ to train your girls."  
She looked down at the deed in her hands, still unable to wrap her mind around something so big. "I'm not getting out of this right now, am I?" she asked blatantly.

Angel shook his head, smiling. "Not right now," he told her. "Tell the Cleveland girls to pack their bags. They'll be California girls soon enough."


	9. Chapter 8

_**I own nothing. Joss Whedon's characters are merely used as my lovely puppets.**_

__Chapter 8-

A part of Willow, a very dominant part, felt aspect of seeing the coven after so long. She knew Ms. Harkness, Melissa, and Michael would welcome her in, but she was also afraid of what they might think of Tara. That was what scared her- she had never thought of this before getting on the plane.

"Willow," Giles prompted her. His voice told her that it was not the first time he had attempted to get her attention.

"Hmm?" she inquired wearily.

The older man gave her a soft, sympathetic look. "Fasten your seatbelt please, the pilot's just said we'll be landing shortly," he told her, taking the other half of she seatbelt from her and clicking into place himself. .

"I'll need to get my car from the shop," Giles told Willow and Tara as they exited the terminal in London. He turned to Willow, "Louis brought the second car out from Westbury. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind driving it back there?"

The redhead nodded tiredly. "Of course," she responded mechanically. "The coven knows we're coming, right? They know I'm here."

Giles put his hand to Willow's cheek and gave her a reassuring smile. "Willow, you talked to Ms. Harkness yourself," he reminded her. "Do try to calm yourself." He looked to Tara then. "Would you go with Willow or prefer to stay with me?" he asked the blonde.

"I-I can go with Willow," she answered numbly.

Willow only nodded, feeling the overwhelming events to come as if they were happening right then. She turned to the baggage claim and heaved their bags upward, beginning to roll them toward where she could see the Ford figo in the car park.

It was only when Willow was behind the wheel on the right side of the car that Tara said anything. "It's strange... the opposite sides on cars and roads in England," she mused aloud.

A weak smile came to Willow's face. "It does take a little getting used to," she admitted conversationally. "When you're going from here to The States, though, it gets especially confusing."

"I'll bet," Tara replied.

The silence that followed was so deafening that Tara was thankful when Willow turned on the radio. It took a little time before the blonde realized that the love of her life was mouthing every single word of the song that was playing, and she listened to the lyrics:

"_Life is getting harder day by day  
And I don't know what to do, what to say  
And my mind is growing weak every step I take  
It's uncontrollable. Now they think I'm fake, yeah_

Coz I'm not alone, no, no, no  
But I'm not alone, no, no, no  
I'm not alone,

And I, I get on the train on my own  
And my tired radio keeps playing tired songs  
And I know that there's not long to go  
Oh, and all I wanna do is just go home."

Tara looked curiously at Willow and the redhead caught her looking.

"What?" she asked guardedly.

The blonde suppressed a laugh but couldn't suppress the smile. "You know every word to that song," she commented sweetly.

Apparently, this was not what Willow had been expecting to hear. "Yeah, it was on the radio a lot when I first came here," she answered. "The lyrics made sense, and it gave me a better perspective."

"On what?" Tara inquired.

A long silence echoed between them, as Willow refused to explain. The country side whipped by and the redhead kept her eyes carefully on the road, even when Tara leaned forward, obviously trying to catch Willow's gaze. Tears flooded the red-haired witch's eyes, but she refused to let them fall in Tara's presence, tears were too personal right now.

"It's me, Will," Tara told her, seeming to read her mind. "You don't have to be strong for me. Remember?"

Willow shook her head. "It's different right now, Tara," she replied, hating the way her voice sounded so hostile. "_We_'re different, or I am at least."

"Pull over," Tara ordered her.

"What?" Willow demanded, looking flabbergasted at the blonde.

Tara stared right back at her. "_Pull. Over._" she repeated clearly. "Please."

Willow obliged quickly, not wanting to upset Tara further. No sooner had Willow turned to face Tara then she felt a hand on either of her cheeks and her lips were captured hungrily. There was passion, there was love, there was frustrated need and desperation in that one kiss, but Willow fought it all. She put a restraining hand on Tara's shoulder and the blonde pulled back to look her in the eye, only to be met with a glare.

"Tara, we-we can't. _I _can't. I'm... I c-can't do this right now! Do you know what that means? And I'm scared that I could never make you happy now," Willow shot at her irately. "Do you know how _hard_ you're making this for me? We've talked about this."

Willow's face held in her hands, Tara looked at her calmly yet defiantly. "_You've_ talked about it," she reminded bitingly. "Just... face it, Will. Unless," she paused, knowing she was playing with Willow now, "you don't want me anymore? Unless, you're not in love with me anymore?"

A furious groan of exasperation escaped Willow's throat as she pulled out of Tara's gentle hands and sat back, running her hands over her face. "Tara," she began again, her voice gentle and calm now, "I love you more than my own life. I love you more than I have ever or will ever love anything or anyone else. I _want_ to be with you, but it wouldn't be fair to _you_ because you deserve so much more than me."

The car was thrown into gear and pulled away from the shoulder of the road. Tara could feel Willow's guilt and sorrow and longing and anger in the confined space of the figo, could see the gloomy aura that wrapped itself around Willow like a cloak of perpetual torment. Her soul wasn't tarnished though, it was scarred and scratched and bruised and slightly distorted, but it wasn't tarnished like a murderer's should be.

"Stop," Willow told her knowingly.

"Stop what?" she returned innocently.

The redhead gave her an admonishing look. "Stop reading me," Willow clarified. "There's nothing good there."

"You're wrong."

"What?" Willow asked, her voice strained and tired.

Tara turned to look at her insubordinately. "You're wrong," she repeated sharply. "I love _you_, Willow Rosenberg. More than anything. I had a choice in coming back, before I had any idea of the good that you had done after the bad that I had seen, and I chose to come back for _you_. I don't care if you think you're not good enough because I know you could never _not _be. You put what you could right and the rest still haunts you everyday and I know that. So do They." She turned her eyes upward. "That's why they sent me back to you, Willow."

Willow shook her head disbelievingly. "No, They just want to torment me," she argued. "And this is the best way to do it, because They know I can't trust myself around you and They know that and I'll kill myself before I ever hurt you again." Her voice had grown loud and harsh the more she ranted angrily.

"Willow!"

"It's the truth!" the redhead yelled furiously. "I may have killed Warren Mears, Tara, but the biggest mistake I have ever made was hurting you."

The car had come to a screeching halt in the middle of the road when Willow had begun yelling at Tara, not even realizing her voice had shot through so many octaves. The redhead was now leaning slightly toward Tara, with a wild look in her green eyes and panting from the breath she had lost in screaming at the beauty before her. The tears were rolling down her freckled cheeks now and she paid no attention to them.

She turned back and dropped her head forward onto the steering wheel, causing the horn to blare loudly across the countryside for several minutes before she picked her head back up. Her breath still came in ragged gasps, but she seemed calmer now and the tears had stopped flowing. Willow started moving again and neither she nor Tara spoke a word to each other for the rest of the ride to Westbury.

**-II-**

We're running out of time!" Connor gasped, slamming a book closed in the seemingly endless library of the new, up and running Watcher's Council. "We have to go back to L.A. next week, guys," he said to his two best friends. "There's no way in Hell we're going to find a demon willing to take in Illyria and we can't do it without consent."

Dawn looked at him as if she were about to punch him. Which, at that moment, she was pretty close to doing just that, except for Jillian's calming hand on her arm. "Why don't we just go with our original plan and move Illyria to an alternate plain of existence?" Dawn suggested irritably.

"Kennedy didn't want us to do that," Jillian broke in. "She didn't want another dimension to be destroyed because of our thoughtlessness."

"Well, if you ask me, we've thought a lot about this," Connor said. "There's no human body strong enough to hold her and no demon willing to let her in theirs. At least, if we shift her into oblivion, she can start over."

"If we shift her into oblivion," Jillian argued, "she could die."

"She's a centuries old demon, Jilly," Dawn pointed out reasonably. "I don't think she _can_ die."

The three were silent for a long time, wondering what in the world they were going to do. Then they heard footsteps coming from behind them, all checking their watches to make sure of the time, they realized that it wasn't yet closing time. A familiar face turned the corner just as the three looked up.

"Michael," Jillian breathed a sigh of relief.

Michael was a tall, strapping Watcher of about twenty-two, with dark, curly, Persian hair and eyes that Dawn thought resembled sunflowers- brown near the pupils, but fading into amber near the whites. He had tanned, russet skin and a wide, white smile, which he flashed in their direction as soon as he was acknowledged.

"Come with me," he said quietly. Watching the trio exchange glances before getting to their feet. "I think I may have found just what you need."

**-III-**

Buffy had been flying between Cleveland and L.A. for weeks now, and it was beginning to tire her out. Her place was meant to be in Los Angeles with their force of demon-ass-kicking beings, trying to prevent the 'Apocalypse for Good', but she couldn't just abandon her younger girls. Slayer Central was still a key component of her life, even if her life _did_ expire in a few short months.

When she landed with Xander in L.A. that night and sprinted for a taxi, it had been nearly two in the morning. She was tired and travel-worn and battle-bruised. Who would have thought that maneuvering through security and baggage claim would be more painful that fighting demons and vamps? Not Buffy Summers.

"Home sweet Hyperion," Xander joked idly as they collected their bags and stepped out of the cab in front of Angel Investigations' hotel-headquarters. The truth was, Xander wasn't so far off the mark, the Hyperion _had_ become home. It didn't matter how many evil-beings burst through the same doors they were entering through now, the hotel would always feel safe and familiar to Buffy.

"Welcome home, pet," she heard from the collection of furniture in the lobby.

She turned to see the bleach-blonde vampire sitting on the couch watching late night TV, which was unusual since he was normally making his way home after patrol or knocking a few back at Barney's by now. The latter usually most likely.

"Spike," she acknowledged him with a weary smile. She looked around, "Where's the boss-man?" she asked him.

Spike didn't take his eyes off the television as he muttered, "Uh... his office, I think."

Xander and Buffy dragged their stuff upstairs, trying to be quiet so they wouldn't wake everyone else in the hotel as well. Cordelia would be pissed if she didn't get her full beauty sleep.

Buffy couldn't help but glance suspiciously at Xander as they passed Dawn's room and found him peeking subtly in through the open crack in the door, just as he did every time they came back to L.A. In all the excitement of the world as Good knew it ending, she hadn't missed Dawn and Xander's sidelong glances at one another before her sister had left for Europe, but she hadn't had a chance to ask either of them about it.

Xander murmured something about bed and left Buffy to enter Angel's office, which she was quickly becoming more and more acquainted with. Her mind was tired and groggy, she had little-to-no motivation to do this tonight, other than the fact that they only had three months, two weeks and four days left until all Hell broke loose. Literally.

Angel was sitting at her desk, going over books, with a cauldron and several various herbs in front of him. His brow was furrowed in concentration and Buffy didn't want to ruin it, so she silently took a seat off to the side. She would make herself known when he was finished with whatever he was doing.

Angel murmured something in a language (Latin, maybe?) that Buffy didn't understand, and threw something into the cauldron. White smoke immediately began billowing out and he smiled triumphantly. Buffy clapped from her seat in the corner, causing him to jump slightly.

"Protection charm for the Hyperion," Angel explained to her when he had composed himself. "Supposed to alert us to any demonic activity. I'm hoping we won't have to use it but..."

"Slim chance of that," Buffy finished for him.

There was an awkward pause and then, "So, how is everyone in Cleveland?" Angel asked her.

"Pretty well," she answered, smiling tiredly. "Thank you. Now we have a whole arsenal of young Slayers being trained that no one knows about." She stopped thoughtfully. "Have word from Faith and Kennedy, while we're on the subject?"

"Probably on a flight home from Tokyo as we speak," Angel answered. "Got a clue when the Littles will be home?"

Buffy nodded, sinking deeper into her chair. "A week or so more," she answered distractedly, "but... I think they might be up to something."

Angel smirked, sitting. "Jillian and Dawn are _always_ up to something. Always," he enunciated. "Unfortunately, Connor's influence will probably only make matters worse. He's a bit of a rebel himself."

"Huh," Buffy mused, "wonder where he could have gotten that from." She shot him a sly smirk and he feigned laughing hysterically.

He gave her a bemused look. "Everyone will be home soon, then we'll be out there hunting them. Before they hunt us."

**-IV-**

"Whatcha got for us, Mikey?" Jillian demanded. Then she got sight of the solely bronze room behind the bookcase Michael had led them to. "Oh."

"Wow," Dawn remarked numbly. She looked at the item in the room, a dagger with an iron hilt and an onyx blade. "Is this...?"

"The Dagger of Avalon," Michael announced proudly. "The Watcher's Council has been keeping it here for centuries, but they've agreed to let you borrow it for your, uh, unique circumstances."

"Sweet, but, uh, what does it do?" Connor asked vaguely.

Dawn and Jillian both stared at him like he'd lost it. "You don't know about the Dagger of Avalon?" Jillian demanded roughly. "Connor, it's only just the answer we've been looking for! It's a way to put Illyria's proverbial genie back in the bottle."

"Yeah... I'm just the kills-thing-with-sharp-pointy-things guy," he inserted dryly. "I have no idea how we're going to kill Illyria with this, this..."

"Dagger, Mr. Sharp-Pointy-Things-Guy," Dawn shot at him. "And, if we can get close enough to Illyria to stab her with this, it'll suck out her soul. Then we can rejuvenate Fred's organs and put her soul back where it belongs!" She turned to Michael, "Michael Grover, you are my hero!" she announced, pulling the collars of his shirt so his lips met hers and kissing him soundly.

Michael came back, blushing. "Of course, anything to-to h-help you guys."

"So... Illyria's soul will be trapped in the dagger... what then?" Connor asked awkwardly.

"You'll need an orb," Michael supplied helpfully, taking a book from the bronze bookshelf. "Thesbulan, probably."

"Like what they put my dad's soul in?" Connor asked.

The girls gave him sympathetic looks. "Pretty much, but it won't stay there forever," Dawn offered.

"Yeah, eventually her soul will dissipate into another dimension," Jillian added. "Most likely the one that he kind came from."

The were quiet for a few minutes, then Connor spoke up. "So, we have a solution?" he asked.

"Yep, and a damn good one at that," Jillian offered. "We'll start tomorrow, hopefully we'll have Fred back by the time we have to leave."

**-V-**

It was noon before the figo pulled into the gravel driveway of a towering tudor house with bright red trim. A number of chickens were scattered about the front yard, intermingling with collies and mouser cats. Across the dusty drive, a woman with long, grey hair and a kind face waved to the pair of witches from the doorway of a small barn.

"Hello, Ms. Harkness," Willow called with a certain amount of relief in her voice.

The woman, Ms. Harkness, hurried across the lot toward them and stopped in front of the redhead, her kind eyes appraising the younger woman warmly. A small, quirky smile spread across her face.

"I was happy to receive your call, Miss Rosenberg," Ms. Harkness told her, embracing the girl gently and laying a hand on Willow's cheek as she pulled away. "Welcome back."

Willow looked at the scene around her. The cats, the dogs, the chickens, the barn, the house with it's comforting front porch, the flower beds full of hydrangeas, delphiniums, rose bushes, and chrysanthemums, and the sprawling fields of land. She caught sight of another woman, younger and brown-haired but in the likeness of her mother, standing on the front porch with a wide smile on her face.

"Well, if it isn't the Wonder Witch her very self," Melissa Wellington called out gleefully.

"My, what a miracle it is!" Willow remarked loudly back to her friend and Melissa came forward for a hug. "Mercy me," the redhead joked further.

Melissa seemed to catch sight of Tara over Willow's shoulder. "And who might this be, darling Willow?" she asked playfully, wiggling her eyebrows.

The titian-haired woman looked from Ms. Harkness to Melissa and then to her one and only love. "Cynthia Harkness, Melissa Wellington, this is Tara," Willow introduced, bring Tara gently forward. "Tara _Maclay_."

Both witches's faces changed immediately from warm to shock. "Oh, Willow... But, you can't have-" Melissa began.

"Oh no!" Willow cut her off quickly. "The Powers," she explained further. "They restored her and others of our Fallen, for apocalypse-stopping reasons."

The two witches breathed a collective sigh of relief and smiled at the two, before ushering them into the house.

**-VI-**

"Do you know what the worst part about flying coach after being beaten up by three slayers, nine vamps, and pair of really nasty demon twins is?" Kennedy complained, walking out of the terminal.

"Sore?" Gunn guessed, chuckling slightly. He rolled his eyes, "I gotta say, those Egyptian vamps didn't know what hit 'em. And those demon brothers? Toast! That was pretty sick, Kenn."

"Actually, I believe they may have been a rare form of Necromancers," Wesley corrected them, walking alongside with his nose buried deep in a book and not paying attention to where he was going.

"Whatever," Faith muttered heartily. "I just gotta say that I think we did pretty well, all things considered and junk."

The other three nodded, glad to be back on American soil. Kennedy hailed a cab and they all piled in, Wesley giving the driver the address of the Hyperion. The only thing Faith truly missed were the stars you could see from the sandy grounds of the Egyptian desert. All in all, she was happy to be back, especially since base was the safest place to be if all hell broke lose.

When they got to the hotel, all the doors were unlocked and the lights on. Cordelia and Jenny sat in the lobby, mostly they were just talking. The two looked up at once to see the four walk in.

"Welcome home," Jenny greeted them, giving Kennedy a hug and then Gunn. "You guys are all safe? No major incidents?"

Kennedy grimaced. "Depends on your definition of 'major incidents'," she remarked wryly. "You know, the usual, vampires and demons-"

"Necromancers, actually," Wesley cut in.

"Oh, and the fact that some of my old slayer friends were within an inch of filleting me alive for not keeping in touch," Kennedy went on, as though her brother had said nothing. "Is that major?" Her voice was now high-pitched and strained.

"Why'd they try to kill you again?" Cordelia asked from on of the couches.

Gunn and Wesley walked over and dropped into chairs nearby, both exhausted from traveling and their adventures abroad. Faith knew she wasn't long for the world, but for some reason she wanted to spend time with people, so she stayed and took Jenny's vacated seat next to Cordy.

"They thought she was dead," Faith supplied in amusement. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she couldn't help but notice that Gunn looked at her appreciatively.

"What? Why?" Jenny demanded, confused.

"You know how this business is," Kennedy sighed, rubbing her face. "People are always dying, it actually wasn't that out there. I mean, I go to L.A. and nobody hears from me much again. What were they supposed to think?"

Jenny sat down, and Kennedy fitted herself into the chair with her brother, letting him hug her with one arm before letting go again. This was the calm before the storm, and they all knew it.

"I think I may have come up with a better plan on the flight over from Tokyo," Kennedy announced wearily. "How about, from now on, we let _everyone _know _everything_ that goes on? For the greater common good of everyone.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9-

Dawn clasped Jillian's wrists, feeling Jillian clasp hers. They'd done magic together before, but this time it was different- this one was for Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and Winifred Burkle.

"_Powers of Being, we invoke thee_

_ All the spirits of time and space_

_ Bring forth The Old One, Illyria_

_ Return her to our midst"_

Dawn was gripped with the overwhelming feeling of the spell taking over. She knew that Connor would have maybe five seconds after Illyria was brought forth to stab her with the blade, or else 'Blue' would figure out what they were doing and there would be no way to fight her. Not to mention the time-sensitivity of Jillian having to heal Fred's Illyria-extracted body while she herself called forth Fred's spirit. She tried to remember why they were trying this. _Oh, right,_ Dawn thought_, because we want Fred back and we're insane enough to believe we can pull this off_.

"Incoming," she heard Jillian breathe to Connor.

A strange, cold wind swept through the room and both girls' eyes flew open at the same time. Dawn looked up just in time to see Connor jump out at Illyria from the shadows of the room, Michael right behind him.

"Sorry, Blue," Connor told her confidently, before thrusting the sapphire blade into her heart.

"Worthless vampire brat," Illyria hissed, then she dropped to the floor as the blade of the dagger glowed.

"Now!" Connor yelled at them.

Jillian leaped forward, grabbing an amethyst crystal and swinging it over the body. Dawn could already see the color returning to the body and the blue fading away, leather turned to ash. She then remembered she had her own job to do.

"_By the power of Osiris_

_ Return the spirit of Winifred Burkle_

_ Make her whole once more_

_ And banish this Evil."_

Dawn shivered as wind swept around the room again, but this time it wasn't as cold an threatening. She could sense Osiris among her friends, but she held onto the power of the invocation. It seemed almost too easy. Maybe it was.

Dawn felt her head swim, too much power too fast. They needed this, though, need her and her brains and her optimism and imagination. Dawn had never met Fred, but she had heard stories and she liked what she heard. That was what made her hold her will throughout the rising headache and after the feeling of something warm and sticky and rust-scented trailed from her nose.

Then she fell back, feeling the force leave the room and the magic release her. "Dammit," she muttered tiredly, hoping it worked.

"Dawnie," she heard Jillian's voice say. She felt strong, sure arms lift her and pull her along. "Connor, give her your jacket and let's get outta here. Michael, seal this place up- nothing in or out after us, okay?"

Dawn blacked out as soon as she heard the door shut behind them.

**-II-**

Fred felt tired, more tired than she had ever felt in the two long years that she had been dead. Her entire body hurt, as if all her organs had turned to mush and then reformed and hardened again. She felt confused and disoriented, but why? She was in Nirvana, waiting for Wesley and the others to return, if they ever would.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she screamed. A girl, pretty, blonde-haired and blue-eyed, tried to calm her, but she was in too much of a shock. Another girl ran in, this one brown-haired and sweet-looking, familiar in some way that Fred couldn't place.

"Fred," the blonde spoke her name soothingly. "Fred, my name is Jillian Wyndham-Pryce, okay? I'm his sister, I'm Wesley's sister. I'm very sorry, I'm very, very sorry. Please." Her eyes were scared and pleading, like Fred imagined her own were.

She faintly heard herself stop screaming, but the blood in her head was rushing too quickly. "Wesley?" she muttered softly.

Jillian Wyndham-Pryce smiled. "Yeah, we brought you here to be with him and to help us,"the blonde explained. "The world is in a whole lot of trouble if you don't." Again, Jillian looked scared. "It's up to you, though. We could find a way to send you back."

"No!" she shrieked.

She felt a strong, comforting hand on her shoulder and turned to see none other than Connor Reilly. She had come back with her memories fully intact, and she remembered Connor. Connor who had lied, who had tried to kill them, who had slept with Cordy and fathered the demon who had killed her. This was a different Connor, though. The same boy, yes, though he was more of a man now, but different because he wasn't dark and intimidating, but the way he should have been.

"Fred, calm down, it's going to be okay," he told her. His voice was sure and loving, like he was talking to a favorite big sister or parental-figure. "We're going to take you back to Wes. He's in L.A. right now."

Fred looked at the two girls, then at Connor. "Where are we?" she asked perplexedly.

"London," the girl answered together.

"England," Jillian clarified. "See, um, I don't know how much you've seen, but... the Good in the world is kinda on the threat of extinction and Wes is pretty much freaking out with the rest of us. He needs you, and so do the rest of us."

"Welcome to our crazy, psychotic, emotionally-imbalanced, badass, demon-fighting, dysfunctional family," the brunette added sarcastically. She looked at Fred more somberly then. "I'm Dawn, by the way," she added, holding out her hand. "Dawn Summers. My older sister is Buffy."

Fred took the hand that Dawn had extended to her. "Winifred Burkle, but call me Fred," she replied. "Otherwise, murder is not out of the question."

Dawn smiled good-naturedly, then she looked at the others. "Let's go home, guys," she told them. "We have a war to win."

**-III-**

Nina sat out on the patio swing looking up at the sky, and looking at the stars. She had a cup of coffee in her cold hands, despite the late hour. She didn't sleep much these days anyway, not since hearing about the up-coming war.

"They're a lot clearer here than in Los Angeles," she heard Oz comment, coming out of the monastery. He handed her a woolen blanket. "Sometimes I wonder if I would ever want to leave, if I had the choice not to."

Nina felt a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "Somehow I picture you going wherever the wind took you, Wolf man," she told him, gesturing for him to sit down.

Oz nodded, his tousled, red hair rustling in the cold, slight breeze. His pale green eyes scanned the horizon, searching for danger, before he finally relaxed. "Well, it started out as trying to find the cure, you know," he explained softly. "And, once I did, I tried to go home to Willow, but she'd found Tara by that time and we knew it could never work between us anymore. And, since then, I haven't really had much to tie me to one place." He looked at her differently than he'd ever looked at her before. "I have Angel and the gang in L.A. and the monastery here, but... even with them I feel restless."

"Like you're trying to find a place in the world, but you can never find one," she said, almost to herself.

Oz smiled genuinely at her. "I guess it must be a wolf-thing," he mused.

Nina shook her head, her wavy locks cascading into her face, and she pushed them back. Thoughtfulness echoed in her brown eyes, something that she normally tried to keep light. "Not a wolf-thing," she amended, "more like a free-spirit thing." She paused, "I grew up in L.A., my parents died in a car crash when I was still in high school, so my sister and I took care of each other. Even having Charlotte and Amanda, though, I feel like... I think... lonely, maybe? Or something like that."

He nodded. "I used to think that no one else got it," he told her, "but, it's like, you did. When Angel asked me to teach you, to help you, I thought I was going to _really_ mess you up. But I decided to try anyway, because I knew what it felt like. And you ended up being really adept at it, keeping your cool and meditating, and then you didn't wolf out anymore. You were just... Nina... all the time." He smiled sideways at her. "Between you and me, I kind of like Nina."

Nina felt at ease and comfortable around Oz. He was so laid back and sweet, marching to the beat of his own drum. She liked it stoicism, his philosophical nature, his dry sense of humor.

She was pretty sure she'd always had a feeling that it couldn't work between her and Angel. He was a vampire, immortal and ageless, and she was only fun to be around about half the month. She loved Angel, she really did, but she loved him because he protected her and cared for her, he showed her what a family could be like for a monster. He had shown her a world of support and love and joking and demon-fighting, and she liked it. Nina was entirely grateful that they'd ended on good terms, skipping all the awkwardness and unease, jumping into friendship.

She hadn't dated anyone since Angel, but now, here was Oz, really there had always _been_ Oz. She remembered those first few moons after trying Oz's plan, when she felt like she was failing and he sat with her every night and was with her everyday. She didn't have the same platonic feelings for Oz that she had for Angel. With Oz, it was a romantic thing.

"You bite your lower lip when your mind wanders," Oz remarked, an amused tone to his voice.

She could feel herself blushing. "Uh, yeah. Nervous habit," she answered. "Kinda had to kick it mostly, after I got bitten, but it still shows up sometimes."

He took her hand and smiled. "I like it."

Nina gave him a tiny smile, needing a subject change before she did something stupid. "Kennedy called me today, somehow Dawn managed to tweak it so she could be patched through," Nina laughed at the antics of her best friends. "I swear, that girl is smarter than a few of us put together."

Oz smiled. "No argument here," he said, holding up the hand that wasn't holding hers in mock-surrender. "So, what did Kennedy need?"

Nina sighed, looking up at the stars and savoring the sight of them. "Us," she said. "In Moscow by next week." She turned to look at Oz. "The gathering-the-troops plan is still in effect but they need us stationed there."

"Together?" Oz asked, his voice unreadable.

She nodded, looking down. "That was the plan," she mumbled, "but if you don't want to-"

He shook his head, tilting hers to look at him. "No, I definitely want to go there with you," he told her meaningfully. She heard the duplicity in his words.

"Good," she breathed, only then realizing how close they'd gotten.

He smiled. "Yeah," he agreed, and then he kissed her.

**-IV-**

Willow walked through the snow-covered roads with Melissa, listening to the wind whistle through the evergreen branches and finding solace again in Devon. Melissa was a sweet companion, understanding and wise and insightful, just what Willow had needed in a friend when she had come here. And what she needed in a friend now.

"I yelled at her," she began, knowing Mel was listening.

"About what?" the older witch inquired.

"I'm trying... you know," Willow explained. "I want to take things slow, like we did in the beginning. To start over and really find myself before things progress too far. I want to be sure that I'm what's right for her."

Melissa nodded thoughtfully. "What if that isn't your decision to make?" she wondered aloud. "What if it's Tara's choice and hers alone? Would you be able to trust her decision?"

Willow thought about it and groaned. "Love is so blinding though, Mel," she objected. "What if she's wrong?"

The brown-haired witch laughed amusedly at her younger friend. "What is _she _isn't and you are?" Melissa challenged stubbornly. "You're a wonderful and brilliant person, Willow, but if you love this woman, as you say you do, then have faith in her. And have faith in yourself, you've come a long way."

"I'm scared," Willow admitted sheepishly.

"She's not. Lean on her, don't push her away," Melissa advised the redhead. "Or you're likely to lose her altogether. Be scared, but don't let her slip through your fingers. She's back for a reason."

**-V-**

Tara was surprised at the knock on her door that night, but she answered to it anyway. When she pulled it back, she had an overwhelming urge to slam it shut again, but she restrained herself for Willow's sake. Maybe it was solely the look in her freckled face, that prevented Tara from shutting Willow out the way that her love had been doing to her.

"Can I come in?" Willow asked nervously. "_Please?_ I'm not here to fight, Tara. I'm here to apologize."

"We seem to be doing a lot of that lately," the blonde remarked as she let Willow in.

She was surprised when Willow leaned forward slowly, obviously about to kiss her, and then stopped. "Just say so if you want me to stop," she told Tara gently, fingers landing on the blonde's pale cheek.

"We're fighting," Tara reminded her, anger wavering.

Willow pulled back, but took Tara's hand gently and pulled her over to sit on the bed in the room. She pushed Tara's hair out of her face, the corners of her mouth quirking upward despite Tara's hostility. "I'm not ready to go too far _yet_," Willow explained, becoming more serious. "I want to take baby steps, but I want to know that you're okay with that. I don't want it to be all or nothing, because I don't want nothing. I want all, _someday_, but not right now. I want you safe and I want to feel safe in myself when I'm around you. And when that happens, I want all. Do you understand? It's going to be a long, important process, but I want to process this time, Tara."

"Am I allowed to kiss you?" Tara asked softly, already leaning.

"Oh yes," Willow replied, rushing forward to kiss Tara. "Kissing is not only allow, but also encouraged." Willow hummed when they separated, feeling Tara's familiar energy zip through her. "You have me, Tara Maclay. Always. I'm going to be right here, by your side, until the last chip falls."

A brilliant scarlet blush rose to Tara's cheeks. "Can you be right here, by my side, tonight?" she asked. "Can you stay with me? Just... just until I fall asleep?"

Willow ran her hand along the length of Tara's face, and for a second, Tara thought she would say no.

"Come on," the redhead coaxed her, lifting up the blankets. "I can tell you're sleepy, so I'm going to snuggle you until you fall asleep."

Tara wrapped herself around Willow willingly. It felt nice, having them be like this again. It felt right, having Willow rub the tension out of her back and shoulders as she drifted off into a blissful dreamland, and snuggling in close to her redhead.

**-VI-**

Savannah had been unsure of seeing Kennedy a second time, but she figured that girl was on her side or, at least, she was on Kennedy's. Still, going alone after the tension between them last time seemed like she was pushing for something to happen. And she wasn't, not in the least, hence bringing Owen along.

"And, as weird and mystical as we always assumed the world was, the term _Vampire Slayer_ never came to mind," he commented, looking up at the expansive Hyperion from out front. "You said there were hundreds of them?"

"Now," she returned stiffly. "There used to be just one, then something happened- something involving magic. That's what I know."

"Coming from the girl who totally turned you on last time you saw her," Owen retorted teasingly, "which was why you brought me." Owen, her brother-figure and an ultimately goofy best friend, never once looked at her differently after finding her sexuality to be less than straight. In fact, if anything, he'd feared her more, but not in an avoiding sense.

She looked at him. "Because you totally _weren't_ drooling over the photograph of Buffy Summers," she retaliated, feeling like a sixth-grader. She put her hand on the doorknob, "Fasten your seat belt, Grey, I have a feeling this is going to be a bumpy ride."

"Can I help you?" asked a bespectacled man in his mid-thirties, as soon as the two had walked through the door.

"Yes," Savannah replied politely. "I'm looking for Kennedy Pryce and Buffy Summers, my name is Detective Savannah Evans of the Los Angeles Police Department. This is my partner, Owen Grey."

The man surveyed them, before offering out a hand. "Wesley Wyndham-Pryce," he introduced himself. "I'm Kennedy's half-brother. I can show you to her office and have Buffy called, if you'd like?"

"Thanks, we'd appreciate that," Owen accepted, stepping in finally.

Wesley nodded and motioned for them to follow, leading them through winding corridors and steep staircases before reaching a door marked: **Kennedy Pryce; Co-Operator of Angel Investigations**. Wesley knocked gently, and opened the door upon hearing a weary, "it's open."

Wesley showed the two cops inside, before stepping inside himself. "Savannah Evans and Owen Grey of the L.A.P.D.?" he announced, looking directly at his sister.

She looked up, and Savannah saw that she looked like she hadn't slept in a week. "Hey, thanks, Wes," she told her brother. "Could you grab Buffy? She's in the library with Cordy and Jenn."

"Of course," he said, bowing his head obligingly at her.

"You're the best brother in the world, Wesley!" she called after him.

"And I don't hear it nearly enough," he returned, closing the door behind him.

Kennedy stood taking the two in. "You two should sit," she suggested lightly. "Trust me, these meetings are _never_ quick. Especially when waiting on Buffy."

Savannah looked between her partner and the dark-haired girl. "Kennedy, this is my partner, Detective Owen Grey," she introduced them.

Kennedy shook his hand, smiling. "Nice to meet you," she said, then she turned to Savannah. "He's up to date on what we're doing here?" she asked the other woman.

Savannah smirked. "Much as I am," she responded.

"My people are very important to me," Kennedy explained to them both. "It's very important that the two of you know that I will do just about anything to protect my family." The raven-haired woman sighed. "This war that the other side has started can't just be fought with sheer force, it's all about strategy."

"How can we help?" Owen asked, surprising Savannah with the genuine concern and determination in his voice.

Kennedy smiled at him. "I know that I'm asking a lot of you, and you are free to decline at any time, but I need reports of anything resembling the things we handle here. Mystical, demonic, inhuman. L.A. is a big city, and, right now at least, it's the convergence hot spot for the other guys," she explained.

"You want us to keep you in the loop," Owen simplified, finally taking the seat Kennedy had offered him.

Kennedy's brown eyes bore in Owen. "That's all I _can_ ask of you," she replied simply. "For now."

**-VII-**

Buffy was feeling claustrophobic and restless in the library, reading a book while hopping from one foot to the other rapidly, like she was playing double-dutch. She felt like she needed to be out there, to be actually doing something other than research and driving their team members to the airport.

Thankfully, she'd picked Tara and Willow up from the airport that morning, and the two witches were doing their best to keep Buffy sane. Giles and Xander were making a trip to Cleveland and then Scotland, collecting the advanced slayers and then stationing them anywhere they could reach. Oz and Nina were still in Tibet. Faith had taken Gunn out on patrol. Everyone seemed to be where they were needed- all except for Buffy.

"Buff," Willow called to her wearily. Buff turned to face her long-time friend, and Willow continued, "Go. We can handle the research, and you need to get rid of some of that energy."

Buffy could feel herself flushing. "Sorry," she replied. "Am I being distracting?"

Willow gave her a sarcastic look. "Just a tad," the redhead told her. "You're all jumpy."

Buffy dropped into her seat at the table in the library and sighed, looking at two of her best friends. Tara reached out and her took hand gently, as if to ask _What are you thinking?_. Buffy thought on how long it had been since Tara had become less a part of her family because of Willow, and more a part because Buffy really _needed_ her.

She looked right at Tara. "Ugh! It's so frustrating," she exclaimed, throwing her hands up and letting them fall into her lap. "I mean, I should be out _there_ kicking ass and taking names and sending a message to these brick-heads. I'm no good at research when I have too much energy."

Willow gave her a sympathetic look. "You can't let the energy run you into the ground Buffy, the jumpiness will only get worse if you let it go unchecked."

As if to prove Willow's point, there was a knock on the door and Buffy jumped four feet, spinning around out of her chair and taking a fighting stance. Willow let her head fall into her hand in exasperation and Tara smiled at them both.

Wesley came in, looking at Buffy as if she'd gone insane. "Um... Buffy, Kennedy needs you for a meeting with Savannah Evans," he told her sheepishly. "Sorry to have startled you."

"Trust me, Wes," Willow told him, head still in hand. "That wasn't just you."

Buffy shot her best friend a look, before following Wesley out of the room and down the hallway, into Kennedy's office.

"You rang?" she asked, walking into Kennedy's office and greeting Savannah. Then she caught sight of the guy standing in the corner. _Wow, where did gorgeous come from?_ She found herself wondering.

"Hey, Buffy," Kennedy greeted her, calling her back to reality. "I was just filling our detective friends in on what they should do if they get a call about a demon." She followed Buffy's eyes. "Oh, Buffy this is-"

"Owen Grey, Detective for the L.A.P.D." the tall man interjected, showing her his badge. "I'm Sav's partner. I'm lending her, and hopefully you, a hand."

"Nice," Buffy managed. She turned back to the other two women, "So, we've explained to them the dangers of engaging with demons and vampires?" she asked.

"Covered," Savannah answered. "Owen worked for a government agency dealing with this sort of thing a while back, but it's been years since we've seen anything like this."

Buffy nodded. "And you're probably not going to see anything like this afterwards either."

"This is kind of a once-every-three-or-four-lifetimes kinda deal," Kennedy added jokingly. "If, we stop these guys, it could mean avoiding an Armageddon."

"And if you don't?" Owen asked realistically.

"Hell on earth," Buffy answered with honesty. She blushed then, realizing the harshness of her words. "Sorry... I just can't sugar-coat anything for you."

Owen held up his hands in understanding. "I get it," he answered. "We've got to know the odds."

"So we've got a deal?" Kennedy confirmed. "You keep us in the loop, and we keep you in the loop?"

Savannah and Owen looked at each other, as if having a private, mental conversation. Then they both turned back to the Slayers. "Deal," they agreed in unison.

"But, Ms. Summers, Ms. Pryce," Detective Grey began, "when this war breaks out, I want to be fighting alongside you, not on the sidelines."

Buffy and Kennedy looked at each other with unease, but they resigned. "Fine," they both told him begrudgingly.

"Hey, Buffy, I've got to finish up some paperwork on this Jamison case," Kennedy told her. "Can you walk Savannah and Detective Grey back?"

Shrugging, Buffy gestured for the two badges to follow her, but noticed that the blonde chick hung back, giving her partner a reassuring nod to follow Buffy. The hallways suddenly felt stifling hot standing next to Detective Grey who did, in fact, make Buffy blush all over.

"You guys seem tight," he commented conversationally.

"All of us are," Buffy relayed to him. "You get into this together for so long, you stop being friends and become family."

Owen laughed heartily. "That sounds more or less like law enforcement," he admitted, flashing a dazzling grin at the blonde Slayer.

"That because it _is_ more or less the same. You fight criminals and we fight demons," she simplified. "We both stand for what's right. It's a similar deal."

"Have you been doing this long?" he questioned as they reached the door and Buffy opened it up to follow him out into the sunshine.

The Slayer laughed. "Ten years. I was the first Slayer in this crazy mess, then my best friend activated all the others and now there's over a thousand of us all over the world," she explained. "I've trained most of them, but some go rogue and we have to keep them in check."

"Wait a minute, _You're _the first slayer?" he demanded. "I mean, I knew there used to be just one, I never knew it was _you_."

"Hey," Buffy scolded him defensively, "I kept the world safe for seven years all on my own- well, minus my friends. I'm good at what I do. Hell, I'm the _best_!"

Owen laughed, holding his hands up in defense against Buffy's tirade. "Okay, okay," he gave up. "Sheesh, I didn't mean to offend you. I was just surprised, you're small but you've gotta pack one hell of a punch."

She narrowed his eyes at him. "Keep talking and you'll see just how _much_ of a punch I pack," she threatened him.

"I'd like that," he replied serenely. "Over dinner maybe? Tonight? I'll pick you up at seven." With that, Owen Grey got into his car and drove off, leaving Buffy fuming. And confused.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10-

Tara walked to her room, Willow gripping her hand tightly, and she wished she didn't ever have to let go. Obviously, they'd always been this way, never wanting to leave each other's sides for longer than it was absolutely necessary. Not even death could really end their love, the distance only intensifying it.

Tara stopped outside her door, wishing Willow would relent and just once. Willow had been very adamant about the starting slowly with trust being rebuilt, getting to know each other again, and trying to find out where they fit in each others' lives- the way Willow was convinced that they should have done it the first time. _Can you just be kissing me now_? Tara remembered herself saying, ending her rant about how they should be putting things back together. She felt that way now too. But if this was what it took to have Willow again, then this was what she would do.

"Are you alright?" Willow asked, putting a hand to Tara's cheek. "You're so quiet." She relished the feeling of Willow's fingers trying to rub out the stress line in her furrowed brow.

"I- I love you," Tara told her softly. Her hands found a place on either side of Willow's face, pulling her little redhead in for a kiss.

They broke apart when Willow pulled back, not wanting things to go too far. Her fingers smoothed over Tara's silky blonde hair lovingly. "You have no idea," Willow told her emphatically. "I love you _so_ much."

Tara dropped her eyes, trying to hide behind her hair, but Willow wouldn't let her. She felt Willow's soft lips against her forehead, and she couldn't help but wince a little. "I want to stay with you forever," she told her love.

"Ssh," Willow quieted her, wiping her tears away quickly with a pain expression on her face. "I will, Tara."

Tara nodded solemnly, then turned into her room with a last kiss from Willow.

She started feeling sick as soon as Willow was gone. Feverish, clammy, and cold all at once, her stomach felt like her internal organs were melting, like she had acid in her tummy. Sleep evaded her, especially when she would be just about to fall asleep, and she would roll over and realize that someone was missing.

**-II-**

"Okay, who wants to go in first?" Jillian asked, faux-confidently, as they stood on the doorstep of the Hyperion.

Fred giggled as Jillian was met with bemused expressions from Connor and Dawn. They were a funny trio, and Fred had been taken by them almost at once.

Connor, though she had known him since he was born- excluding his time in Quor-Toth, where he had grown to an adolescent boy- was calmer now after being given a normal life by Angel; he still had Angel's dark-and-broodiness, but he was now rational and analytical and sweet. Dawn was edging on the brink of genius, but she had both brains and brawn, not too mention a whole lot of heart. It was Jillian, though, that Fred had been most interested in; she was Wesley's sister, but she wasn't as refined and primped and Wesley had been. Jillian was smart, there was no arguing that, but she seemed to have a philosophical, introspective, learned-by-experience sort of intellect, and she was a strong sorceress and a valiant fighter.

Connor sighed resignedly. "Okay, okay, I'm technically _years_ older than you _girls_, so I'll face the wrath first," he grumbled, earning a slap on either of his shoulders by either of his friends.

"You say the word 'girl' like it's a derogatory thing," Dawn huffed, putting her hand on the doorknob and throwing it open. She then promptly turned to face Connor and stuck her tongue out.

Fred suddenly felt as if the air around her were pressing in on her, causing her to have some trouble breathing. People she knew were threw that door, people she loved. What would Angel think? Or, more importantly, Wesley?

"You'll be fine," came the reassuringly soft voice of Jillian Wyndham-Pryce. Fred felt someone gently squeezing her shoulder, and a pair of electric-blue orbs came into her tunnel-vision. "They love you, remember?" Jillian's cheeky smiled seemed to do the trick, but she found the younger girl's strong hand wrapping itself around Fred's and pulling her toward the door.

This was it. Now or never. Do, don't die.

**-III-**

Willow tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep and temporarily wondering why she was doing this to herself. Tara was right there, and they were in love, maybe more so than before. She was so scared though, she'd done horrible things and she didn't deserve the second chance that Tara seemed so willing to give her. She didn't want to ruin Tara's perfection any more than she had, so she spent restless nights wishing things could be different.

She was almost to sleep when she heard footsteps in her room, but they didn't startle her anymore. It may have been Buffy, with more bad news or in need of support, or Dawn, back from England and in need of a hug. She wouldn't have even ruled out Giles or Xander or any of the others. She hadn't however, been expecting the one person whom she wanted there so badly.

"Will," Tara said, tear rolling down her cheeks as she sat down.

Willow sat up hurriedly, one of her hands finding Tara's wrist. "Tara?" she asked, concerned by the paleness of her love's skin and the deep circles under her eyes. "Baby," Willow started, putting a hand to Tara's cheek. "Oh God, you're burning up."

"I'm not feeling so great at the moment," Tara told Willow.

"I should say not," Willow breathed.

She got up, taking Tara's frame from behind, and pushing her towards the bed. She pulled back the covers and laid Tara down, careful not to tuck her in too much, scared that she might over heat.

She pushed damp hair out of Tara's normally beautiful face. "I'm going to find something for you, okay? I'll be _right back_, I _promise_," she told Tara firmly.

Tara nodded quietly and Willow kissed her forehead gently before moving out of the room and down the hall. She wondered who could tell her where she could find some medicine, or who might be awake still. Then she saw the light in Kennedy's office, of course the slayer was still up.

She walked in without hesitation or knocking and Kennedy looked up immediately, taking in Willow's wildly worried look.

"Hey, is everything okay?" the dark-haired girl asked Willow.

"It's Tara. I'm sorry, I can find Angel, but she's got a fever and-" Willow stopped when Kennedy held up a hand and abruptly opened a drawer in her desk.

Kennedy pulled out, what must have been, the largest first-aid kit Willow had ever seen. The brunette flipped it open and pulled out a few bottles and a glass, setting them on her desk before closing the case and stuffing it back in her desk. She handed the bottles to Willow.

"I keep this stuff in here, you know, for extra precaution. After Dawn and Jillian had that little spell-gone-awry that trapped me in the library for two weeks, I've been really careful," Kennedy explained, meeting Willow's bewildered expression. The younger girl nodded, "Right, you didn't need to know that. Anyway, um, so go give that to Tara and I'll make her some tea and bring up, okay?"

Willow was momentarily taken aback. "Uh... thank, but, um... you don't have to," the redhead stuttered in shock. "I mean, I can handle it, if, you know, you're... busy or something. It's really sweet of you though."

Kennedy nodded. "I'll get that tea," she said firmly, and Willow got the hint.

"Um, thanks," Willow said, retreating back to her room.

If it were possible, Tara looked even worse for the wear than she had when Willow had left her a few minutes ago. The redhead could hear her heart hammering in her ears and she crouched down to Tara's head. It killed her to see the woman she loved in such discomfort.

"Hey," Willow whispered, pushing more hair back from Tara's face. "I've got some medicine, and I'm gonna get you some water. You gotta sit up, okay? Just for a minute."

Tara nodded as Willow grabbed the glass that Kennedy had handed her and walked into the bathroom, filling the glass with cold water before hastily returning to Tara's side. She measured out medicine in a small plastic cup, handing it to Tara, and then handing her the water when she'd taken that. She laid Tara back down before going to rinse out the plastic cup and putting it back on top of the bottle's lid.

Tara shivered, but Willow saw her try to stop herself. The blonde witch felt cold with her fever, Willow realized. The redhead got up and walked around to the other side of the bed, climbing in and taking Tara into her arms. _This is where she belongs_, Willow reveled. _This is where _I_ belong. Like this, with her_.

Willow pressed kisses to the back of Tara's neck, snuggling her protectively. She had let a virus get into her sweet girl, she wasn't letting anything else get Tara.

"I'm going to make you sick," Tara whispered through chattering teeth.

Willow hugged her love a bit closer to her. "Do you want me to stop?" she asked, fearing Tara's answer.

Tara pulled Willow's arms even snugger around her waist. "Please, don't," she begged, choking out the words.

"Ssh, baby. It's okay, I'm not going anywhere," Willow promised. "Nowhere that I can't go with you." Then there was a knock at the door and Willow heaved a sigh, knowing it would be Kennedy. "Except for to answer the door. I'll be right back." She pressed a prolonged kiss to the back of Tara's ear.

Willow caught the door and pulled it open a fraction, finding Kennedy and the promised tea on the other side. She thanked the dark-haired girl and promised to get her if anything else came up, then closed the door and went back to Tara.

"You're back," Tara observed deliriously.

"I'll always come back to you," Willow promised her, pulling her as close as the laws of physics would permit.

"That's why I did," Tara said, and before Willow could ask her what she meant, she was fast asleep.

**-IV-**

Kennedy looked at the multiple screens that Willow had somehow manage to set up in the drawing room with the help of Wesley. Each one was hooked up to live-video through Skype, and held the faces of Oz and Nina who were still in Tibet.

"Three more months, guys," she told them, Angel and Buffy standing behind her supportively. "Three more months before they attack. When this fight happens, I want all of you here to help."

"What's the status in LA?" Oz asked via video. Nina stood beside him in a small room, nodding with her brown eyes full of worry.

Also on-line were Rona, Vi, Satsu, and Chao-Ahn, and the Slayers from Cleveland.

"Willow and Jenny have been trying to track the convergence spot down," Kennedy told all of them, their figures flickering and pixelating. "Tara's out of commission for now, but Jillian will be home soon, so she can help."

Kennedy looked back at Angel and Wesley for help and Wes, of course, stepped forward to help his sister. "When Buffy's new class of slayers are ready, the older ones will take over your positions and we'll have them join their leaders. We'll be needing all of you here because... well, quite frankly, we may have more of a crowd than we anticipated," he explained.

"So you want us to stay here?" Vi asked solemnly, her face reading that she was ready for whatever came.

"Yeah, you guys will keep your squadrons until D-day, after that your lieutenants will take over somewhere else. But we have almost three hundred girls now to help us fight, and we're getting in touch with other survivors from the Sunnydale battle," Kennedy informed them. Then her face tightened, "I don't think they'll come out of retirement easily, but... if they don't-"

"The world could end," all the slayers finished for her, as if they were tired of hearing this.

"Exactly," Buffy confirmed. "The world's ending for the good guys, girlies. We're the only chance of stopping it." Buffy's momentary joke left her face and she became business once more. "Dana, Shannon, Renee, and Caridad, you guys just keep training the younger girls. Rona, Vi, Chao-Ahn, and Satsu, hold your grounds for now, but Kennedy and I will most likely be bringing you guys here soon.

"Oz, Nina, we need you coming home whenever possible. We're going to need our own army here."

Buffy's eyes scanned all the digitalized faces sternly. "Kick as much ass as you can," she told them all grimly, "then report back. I believe in all you guys, okay? So don't get killed. Rule number one in this game?"

"Don't get killed," Kennedy answered her confidently.

Then there was a crash coming from the lobby, and everyone in the room turned toward the doorway.

"Like that."

**-V-**

"Connor!" Jillian and Dawn hissed at him simultaneously, as he fell over the silver suit of armor.

Connor's hands broke his fall against the marble floors, but nothing could dull the sound of the armor crashing down as well. All four of them were certain that the pigeons living the rafters had scattered at the sound.

Fred rushed forward to give Connor a hand up and right the suit of armor, but already they could hear footsteps in the hallway leading from the drawing room. Dawn and Jillian silently crossed their fingers behind their backs, looking guiltily at each other and bracing themselves for the uprising.

As if in slow motion, Buffy, Angel, and Kennedy burst forth from the hallway, each stared at the three Littles before their eyes lighted on Fred. Giles and Jenny caught up then, eyes wide and mouth gaping at the sight of the long-dead physicist. But it wasn't until Wesley came into the hall, pushing past everyone, that the real hell broke loose.

Jillian stared in dread at her brother's stunned expression. "We're dead."

**-VI-**

Cordelia got ready for patrol, watching Doyle switch off the monitors numbly. He turned to her, his gorgeous, soulful eyes looking right into hers.

"They'll be alright, Cordy," he assured her in his Irish brogue. His eyes turned to the window and then to the clock. "C'mon," he told her, taking her by the arm, "dawn's approaching. If we go out now, we might have some luck." He picked up a quiver of slender oak-wood arrows and a heavy crossbow, handing Cordelia two stakes, a sword and slipping a striker into her pocket. He took her hand and pulled her out the door.

The night was warm and breezy under a strangely star-filled sky. Doyle's eyes remained as alert and ready as his body, never relaxing for a moment as he held the crossbow aloft. Nobody would think much of their patrol. Nobody cared if they had deadly weapons at night here, they had bigger things to worry about lately.

"Are you ever worried a little?" Cordelia demanded, her voice high-pitched but quiet in the night. Still, the sound echoed off of concrete walls and brick buildings.

"What?" Doyle asked thickly, Cordy's voice drawing his mind away from the night.

Cordelia's sienna eyes bore into his, staring him down and forcing him to look away. "We could die, our friends could be dead right now," she clarified blankly, "but you're all 'Mister Cool-nothing-scares-me-guy'."

"There are things that scare me," Doyle argued in a miffed tone.

"Oh, yeah?" Cordelia challenged him. "Like what?"

"Well, you, for one," he replied simply, "and-" Then his eyes looked past her, "vampires!"

Cordelia scoffed, "Vampires? Really?"

Doyle raised his crossbow and fired, causing Cordelia to dive out of the way. One of the arrows zipped through two vamps, dusting them both on site, but there were at least four more surrounding them.

"Oh!" Cordelia exclaimed, a tad delayed. She pulled a stake from up her sleeve and ran over to a vampire, staking on the spot and then levitating over it to stake another.

She never saw the fifth vampire until she was staring at the bloody tip of its sword, tracing all the way through her mid-section.

Doyle cried out, but his voice was lost to the wind, as he staked the fifth and sixth vampire with the stake Cordy had dropped. He swung her into his arms and sprinted as best he could, away from the scene.

**-VII-**

"You okay?" Gunn asked her for the ninth time.

Faith's skin was pale white and glistening with perspiration, and she had dark circles under her eyes, which didn't sparkle with their normal hungry mischief.

"Nah, I'm fine," she answered huskily. The words scratched her throat, making it feel like it would crack and bleed at any second.

"Listen, Faith, I can check this out on my own," Gunn offered, stopping her by stepping in front of her.

His hands felt cool against her skin as he pushed hair away from her face. She tried to look directly into his brown puppy dog eyes, but her vision went in and out of focus. Faith could feel his gaze though, sense the way he looked at her, but she had learned a long time ago that it was looks like that that were the most dangerous.

"It's a nest, Gunn,"she told him. "You can't fight all them on your own-"

"I can't fight them all on my own, _worrying about you_," he corrected her, that same tenderly concerned gaze never waning.

"Look, we'll just take care of them and get out of here," she offered. "We'll go back to the hotel." She met his soft look with a glare. "I probably just have a fever or something. I'm a Slayer, I'll deal."

Seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, Gunn turned back to the street ahead of him, but he kept an arm behind Faith's unknowing back. If she were to fall, he was ready to catch her.

Faith stood outside the door of the decaying apartment, positioned and ready to kick the door in. Gunn was right behind her, but Faith couldn't still see him. He nudged, giving her the signal, and she kicked the door in.

They could see figures hiding in the shadows, but there wasn't much shadow to hide in. The moonlight was just right to illuminate the space.

"Heya fellas," she greeted them with venom. "Wanna come out to play? Hide inside on a beautiful night like tonight and someone might think you're vampires."

"Yeah, these locals can be pretty superstitious," Gunn added, cornering them with her.

One of the vampires hissed at them, "You do not know what you are up against!"

Gunn and Faith scoffed and exchanged 'get-real' looks.

"Trust me, Mama Vamp," Faith told her, sweeping her feet while Gunn staked her brothers behind her. She bent down to her knees and pressed the tip of the stake to the she-vamp's throat. "I've seen worse than you."

The black vampire laughed coldly. "I am not what you have to fear, my dear," she hissed sinisterly. "To you, I am not even a threat-"

"Got that right," Gunn cut in cockily. "Come on, Faith, just dust this hellcat already. We need to get you home and treated."

The vampire woman turned her eyes on Gunn. "I once knew a man much like you, Charles Gunn," she told him.

Gunn took a step back like he'd been slapped. "How do you know my name?" Gunn demanded harshly.

The woman's unnecessary breathing came in harsher gasps as Faith pressed the pointed wood harder against the vampire's throat. "I am Cyrah Kairu, and I was a powerful Seer before my transformation," she gasped. "I still have kept my sight, but I am something different now. The sunlight burns my skin, and wood turns me to dust. _He_ did this to me, but still I must serve him." She looked at Gunn sadly. "_He_ killed the one who looked at me as you do Faith Lehane, Charles Gunn. And now, I am nothing. My heart is empty. As will yours be if you do not kill me and take her home quickly. She is ill, and the spell's poison will kill her if she keeps on like this."

"What spell? Who casted it?" Gunn demanded, lifting the woman away from Faith and slamming her into the wall. "Tell me!"

The woman smiled sadly at him. "_He_ did," she answered. "_He_ who killed the man I loved, _he_ who changed me into a monster, _he _who resorted me to this state of being. _He_ who is the source of all that is Evil and wrong in the world."

"The First Evil?" Faith asked through ragged breaths.

Gunn looked down at her in shock, almost having forgotten that she was getting worse. "Faith, we have to get you-"

"No, not The First, my dear. The Master of All Evil, he will be the one you face," the woman explained, then she looked Faith up and down. "If you live that long."

Gunn was torn. Faith needed to go and rest and be cared for, but this woman sounded like she had the answers they needed. How were they going to get both?

"A choice you must make, Charles Gunn, but I will wait," the woman told him, sensing his hesitation. "If you wait, she will die. If you do not kill me, I swear on Osiris that I will remain here until she is well. I swear it on my lover's grave, Charles Gunn. Save her, then you can kill me if you so wish. Please."

There was a sense of urgency and honesty in the old vampire's face. Something was making Gunn believe her, and with one look at Faith, he knew what he had to do. Because, at that moment, Faith Lehane dropped to the ground unconscious.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11-

Wesley gazed at the girl in front of him, and for once he was at a loss for words. Of course, Illyria had taken on Fred's appearance before, but for her to come here now doing just that? Had the Old One become suicidal?

"Illyria," Wesley growled at her, zero sympathy in his voice. "Stop it. Change back. _Now_."

Fred blinked for a few seconds and tears sprung to her eyes. He didn't understand yet, after all this time, it was natural that he would think she were Illyria. She felt Jillian take one of her hands and Dawn take the other.

"Wes," Jillian breathed out. "This isn't Illyria."

Angel's eyes narrowed and Jillian and Dawn picked up on it immediately. The vampire stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Wesley's shoulder.

"You three need to start explaining," Angel ordered them. "Or you _will_ be put on field-suspension."

"Okay! Okay!" they erupted together, pulling Fred into the room and setting her down on one of the sofas.

"We used the Dagger of Avalon to withdraw Illyria's essence from Fred's body," Connor began carefully, his eyes never leaving his father.

Dawn nodded, looking directly at Buffy. "And then we used magic," she told her sister, "to reform Fred's internal organs and call her spirit back."

Wesley and Angel looked at each other blankly. Neither seemed sure what to say, especially since three young adults had managed to do what they had struggled to find a way to do until Fred's dying breath.

"Wait just a moment," Wesley remarked. He looked at his younger sisters with all the love in the world in his eyes and Jillian saw something in her brother than she had never seen before- true, unadulterated, romantic love. "You said you used The Dagger to withdraw Illyria? How? Where did you find The Dagger?"

Jillian smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and putting all her weight on a slightly bent knee. "The London Council Building," she told him. "Duh! It was right there the whole time."

Wesley turned back to the girl on the sofa and suddenly starting seeing in her the woman he loved. Her eyes were bluer now, remnants of Illyria's spirit, but they had their old shine of wonder and curiosity and kindness. Her hair was back to normal now: brown and silky. Her skin was paler and softer than it had been while under Illyria's hold and she smiled genuinely again. This was no act, this girl was Winifred Burkle in the flesh.

"You're Fred," Wesley said, as if he just couldn't believe it.

Fred stood but kept a few feet between them, looking at her feet self-consciously, before looking into Wesley's eyes. "I'm Fred," she confirmed in a soft, choked-up voice.

Then Wesley took a few steps forward and enveloped Fred in his arms, clinging to her tightly just as she did to him. He felt tears slip from his eyes and fall into her hair. This was Fred. This was home.

**-II-**

Buffy had to step away from the reunion of the happy couple when her cell phone went off, though everyone was dispersing to give them privacy anyhow.

"Hello?" she asked, recognizing Gunn's number on her caller ID.

"Buffy?" came Gunn's gruff voice. "It's Faith. Well, this is actually Gunn, but I'm calling about Faith."

Buffy snorted and rolled her eyes, dropping into a chair in the office. "What kind of trouble has she gotten herself into this time?" Buffy asked, as if asking what day of the week it was.

Gunn was silent a long time. "She hasn't gotten herself into trouble, Buffy," Gunn told her, "but she is _in_ trouble. She's sick, and there's no one around here who can cure her. I need help getting her home."

Buffy's heart had skipped a beat on the word 'sick'. Tara was sick and now Faith was sick? What was this? A freaking epidemic? And Faith was _sick_? Faith was never sick- it just didn't happen.

"I'm on my way, Charles," Buffy informed him firmly. "I'll help you bring Faith home."

When she went back to the group, Angel had the same troubled expression on his face that she imagined she had on hers.

"Doyle had to take Cordelia to the hospital," he informed her. "She was stabbed."

"Faith's deathly sick and Gunn needs help getting her home," Buffy told him. "So I'll meet you back here?" He nodded and she turned to Giles and Jenny. "Can you guys get Lorne? I think Faith might need a healer's touch right now."

The two nodded and scampered off and Buffy and Angel exited the building quickly, leaving behind the ecstatic couple.

**-III-**

Willow had rarely left her room since Tara had fallen ill three days before. When she needed to work, she brought her laptop into the room and sat near the window facing Tara so the light wouldn't bother her love. When she needed to eat, she made quick meals and brought them upstairs. The only time she ever left was for mandatory meetings, and even those happened a little too frequently for her liking.

"Willow?" Tara's voice breathed, barely audible. But Willow heard it, she always heard Tara.

"I'm right here, baby," Willow told her, closing her laptop and coming to sit in the chair next to the bed.

Tara's cheeks were flushed, her eyes were dull and had dark circles underneath them, her hair was messy and her lips were cracked. She looked horrible. Willow thought she still look like a goddess.

"I was afraid it was a dream," Tara told her worriedly.

Willow frowned, sitting on the edge of the bed and helping Tara to sit up so that the blonde could drink from a glass of water. Tara took small sips at first, but her unquenchable thirst led her to take bigger gulps. Willow set the cup down when it was empty, and turned back to Tara.

"More?" she asked worriedly.

Tara shook her head. "I was afraid it was a dream," the blonde repeated insistently.

Willow frowned deeper, lifting up the covers and sliding under. "You were afraid what was a dream, sweetheart?" she asked softly, stroking Tara's too-warm cheeks.

Tara bit her lip, and Willow could see tears springing into those baby blue eyes. She could feel her own heart breaking at the sight. She wrapped her arms protectively around Tara's waist.

"You," Tara cried quietly. "I was afraid to open my eyes because I was scared you wouldn't be there. I would have to lose you all over again. I didn't- I didn't..."

"Ssh," Willow shushed her, wiping away Tara's tears. "It's okay, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere, Tara. I promise you that you are _never_ leaving my sight ever again. Wherever you go, I'm going with you."

More tears rolled from Tara's eyes before Willow could catch them. "Am I still dreaming?" she asked desperately.

Willow didn't know how to make Tara see that she wasn't dreaming. That they were both alive and there and together. But Willow took Tara's hands and kissed each tear away carefully, pulling back long enough to look into those blue orbs and then kissing away another.

"Tara, if you were dreaming, could I do this?" Willow asked, and then she kissed Tara deeply.

For the first time in weeks, Tara knew she wasn't dreaming. Even in her state of delirium, she could hear Willow's promise to never leave her, could feel Willow's hands gripping hers, could feel Willow capturing the tears with her lips, and then capturing Tara's own with them.

It was a kiss that cleared her senses, made the delirium fade into hyper-awareness and elation. A kiss that took her breath away and breathed life into her at the same time. She could feel Willow's hands on her back, on her waist, on her hips. Her lips crushed against Willow's until air became a problem and they broke apart gasping, before coming together again. She wordlessly begged for permission to deepen the kiss and Willow obliged, wrapping her arms tighter around Tara.

Then, all of a sudden, Willow was gone and Tara felt a gut-wrenching feeling that spread all the way to her heart.

"I-I'm sorry, Tara," Willow stuttered.

Tara followed just as quickly as Willow had left, standing up before having to sit back down again because her head spun wildly. "W-why?" Tara choked out.

Willow came a few feet closer, crouching down to look at Tara and make she that she was okay. She pulled her love's hand down from the blonde's head and was surprised when Tara clutched it with a death grip, but chose not to dwell on it. She examined Tara's pale blue eyes closely.

"You need to be careful, baby," Willow warned her. "We don't want you getting sicker."

Tara glared at Willow with furious eyes. "Do _not_ change the subject, Willow Rosenberg," she snapped impatiently at the redhead. "_Why_ are you sorry?"

Willow got up and walked over to the window, staring out at the misty sky and feeling her own eyes water as well. "I could have hurt you," she whispered desperately.

**-IV-**

As happy as Kennedy was for her brother, she couldn't help but feel a little sickened by his sweet lovefest. Luckily, as she had learned from Faith, the quickest way to get rid of the warm-and-fuzzies was some premium slayage.

"I'm glad you called," Savannah told her quietly as they crept along the sewer drain under the city. "I'm guessing you're not one to go skulking around on your own?"

Kennedy smiled silently to herself, knowing that the detective couldn't see it in the dark. "Doesn't bother me one way or the other really," she answered offhandedly, "but, I figured if we met up with something you'd finally see what we're up against."

"Ah," Savannah comment, "so you were trying to scare me-"

It was then that they heard the sounds, like hundreds of drums banging out a ritualistic rhythm. If that weren't bad enough, they heard shouts and jeers and footsteps and applause. The two women looked at each other; Kennedy, at the gun Savannah had drawn on reflex and Savannah at the stake and crossbow.

"It's coming from beneath us," Kennedy said surely.

Savannah looked at her funny, as if there were no way humanly possible for Kennedy to know that. "Oh yeah? How do you figure?" she demanded cockily.

Kennedy tapped her ear. "Slayer hearing," she replied with a sneer. "Works like a charm." Kennedy nodded to the gun. "Bullets don't work on vamps or the general majority of demons," she pointed out.

Savannah snapped out her half-used round of bullets. "No," she challenged self-righteously, revealing the slugs, "but _wooden_ bullets do."

Kennedy looked to see that all four of the small pieces of ammo were actually pointed rods of ash wood set into metallic casings. She glared at her comrade, sulking at being shown up.

"Very clever," she pouted, turning to follow the trail to the noises. "But you still have to watch out for the scores of demons."

Savannah stopped dead in her tracks, wondering the millionth time just how she had gotten herself into this.

**-V-**

Cordelia felt a sharp pain when she woke up and winced, feeling painful tears roll down her cheeks. Immediately, she felt someone take her hand and turned her head to look them in the face. Doyle smiled back at her.

"You gave me a right scare there," he told her with care. "Had to call the boss and the whole shebang."

Cordy groaned in frustration. "Doyle! You called Angel?" she demanded.

The raven-haired man grinned sheepishly. "I had to, Cord," he told her. "You gave me a right scare."

Cordelia laughed, tipping her head back and staring around the hospital. "Well, as bad as that sounds, I don't see any reason to worry Angel," she concluded. "We had a rough break and it isn't like this is the first time I've had something put through my abdomen. I've had lots of practice." She squeezed Doyle's hand. "Besides, I have you here to look out for me. I'm great with the together-ness."

Doyle fixed her with a piercing, questioning stare. "Are you?" he asked, and she felt like he meant more than just them together in the hospital.

Cordelia nodded, lifting Doyle's hand to her cheek. "I am," she answered meaningfully.

**-VI-**

Kennedy's heart raced faster that louder the threatening sounds grew as they meandered deeper underground. It wasn't fear or anxiety that made her heart race- it was adrenaline and the thought that they might finally be onto something. Still, she had one hand firmly wrapped around Savannah's wrist.

It wasn't long before the tunnel turned from cement and cobblestone to craggy rock and the temperature rose dramatically. The heat itself didn't bother the young slayer, but the source of it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight.

"This is it, isn't it?" Savannah asked her ever so quietly. "This is Hell?"

Kennedy smirked at the other woman. "No, believe me, if we were in hell you would know it," she answered stonily. "This is just an upper level of the Underground." She looked severely at Savannah, a look of absolute seriousness and authority. "Look, if something goes wrong in here, I want you to get out and get help. Get yourself to a safe place. Run as fast and as far as you possible can and don't look back, okay?"

Normally Savannah would have argued with Kennedy and questioned her authority, but she saw how grave and professional the other woman was being about this and decided to just nod and follow orders. "What about you?" she asked respectfully.

Kennedy turned back to the stretch of tunnel ahead of them. "I'm a slayer. This is my destiny," she replied mechanically. "I was born for this."

Savannah took Kennedy's hand lightly. "I understand," the blonde said meaningfully.

The two continued along the path at a steady pace, until they saw a torchlight up ahead and Kennedy slowed them a bit. They continued cautiously, and Savannah could feel Kennedy persevere tensely. The brunette's eyes darted to every flickering shadow until they came into the chamber and Savannah almost gasped.

It was a huge room with high-vaulted ceilings and torches set in brackets every few yards or so. The walls were all rock, lit up red by the light of the flames, and down below them was the source of the noise.

Demons, vampires, warlocks, and every evil creature Savannah had ever woken up screaming from as a child, sat it spectators stands on every wall. In the center of the room, figures in cloaks of blood red and jet black were gathered around an old leather-bound book. The book was thick with yellowed pages and an glowing-red eye branded into the cover. Something about the grimoire made Savannah shiver nervously.

She recognized the drummers as ghouls, dressed in executioners garb, with wicked smiles on their creepy face. They banged out the same roll that had once been played at hangings and beheadings. Then, suddenly, they stopped.

"Brothers," a figure below called out, letting down his hooded cloak.

Kennedy let out a gasp. "That stupid idiot," she growled in a dangerously low voice. "He's supposed to be dead dammit!"

"We gather here to choose the strong from the weak, powerful from the powerful, and the brilliant from the boastful," the figure went on. "Vampires, demons, forces of darkness!" he called out, bowing to each of them in turn. "On the sixth of June, we will take our place in the world, but to get there we must first be here. We will choose our leaders, or rather, a fight to the death will choose them. I have taken place at the Head, until our true Potentates return to this world." He looked around at the army that had gather there, his eyes gleaming sinisterly and his mouth stretched into a merciless sneer. "Need I say their names?" he asked his comrades. "The Wolf, The Ram, and The Hart."

Kennedy grabbed Savannah around the waist and pulled her back into the tunnel. They walked quickly away, being careful not to let their footfalls carry to the thousands of ears below. Kennedy finally stopped, putting herself between the scene behind them and the blonde detective who was gasping for air after running for so long.

The slayer crouched down next to her doubled-over partner, looking at the other woman tenderly. She brushed strands of hair from Savannah's beautiful face and rubbed the cop's back as tears began falling to the dirt floor from those brilliant blue eyes.

"Will you be alright?" Kennedy asked the other woman gently.

"Wolfram&Hart," Savannah gasped in response. "I might have known, but... God, imagine what they'll do to all the good in the world."

Kennedy nodded sympathetically, and lifted the blonde upright once more. She left her toned arms around Savannah's waist as she started forward again. "C'mon, we have to tell the others," she said, as they started the trek home.

"Who was that man?" Savannah asked after awhile. "The one who was rallying them."

Kennedy face became the hard mask of a troubled warrior. "His name _was_ Lindsey McDonald."

**-VII-**

Faith's whole body felt like it was wrapped in tingling flames of ice as she laid shivering and dozing uneasily. She felt tears slide down her cheeks, knowing that she deserved this. It didn't matter how much she tried to atone for her past mistakes and betrayals, karma would eventually have the last say.

"This is is it," she murmured helplessly to herself, "I'm going to die."

"No you're not." Buffy's voice, strong and powerful and sweet all at once. "Faith, open your eyes. It's not your time yet."

For once, Faith didn't have the strength to scoff and defy the blonde's orders, so she obediently opened her eyes.

Her vision was immediately full with Buffy Summers. Golden hair, brown eyes, tiny smirk, angular face. Relief flooded through the Second Slayer.

"Hey, B," Faith groaned, embracing the pain in her throat that came with talking. "What? Did you and Gunn drag me all the way home just to keep me from dying?"

Buffy leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands where she sat in the chair next to Faith's bed. Her face was startlingly serious, all traces of the Slayer's normal humor were gone. "Yes," she said plainly, staring at her counterpart. Buffy took Faith's hand without hesitation. "I love fighting with you too much to let you die."

Faith caught the alternative meaning to Buffy's words, and squeezed the blonde's hand awkwardly. People didn't hold her hand, especially not Buffy after everything that had happened. It felt so strange to have the other Slayer reaching out to her now.

"At least if I die now, I'll die happy," Faith chuckled, but her laugh became a hacking cough that wracked her body and brought tears to her eyes.

Buffy pinched the other girl's hand, but didn't let it go. "You're _not_ going to die, Faith," Buffy told her simply. "I won't let you."

Faith smirked, loving their light banter as much as she had when they were teenagers. "Because you _love_ me," Faith teased her spitefully.

Buffy's demeanor changed, and she was suddenly serious again. "Yeah, I do," the blonde replied evenly.

Faith felt the shift, the tension in the air going from playful to meaningful in a matter of seconds. "You're not letting me go back out on patrol for awhile, are you?" she asked knowingly, trying to avoid further awkwardness.

Buffy pursed her lips. "No, Faith, I'm not," she replied. "It was stupid of me to send you out there. If there's an apocalypse going down and you're not on the other side or imprisoned, I want you here with me."

"Yeah, 'cause we finally got that whole 'dynamic-duo' thing down," Faith agreed offhandedly, giving Buffy her thoughts without getting all Oprah Winfrey. "No more trying to kill each other?"

Buffy smiled warmly. "Never again," she agreed.

Then Buffy did something that Faith never saw coming, she lifted up the blanket and slid onto the bed next to her. For the first time in what might have been her entire life, she felt completely and totally safe and at peace, and she finally fell into a deep, restful sleep.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12-

"Willow," Tara said sharply, "talk to me. What's this about?"

Willow couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't speak. All she could do was picture the horrible things she had done; Tara, the whole gang, Dawn, Warren, they played in her head over and over, even the mishaps before she had become addicted. She had hurt them all before, but she couldn't hurt Tara again, especially when she had no idea how long she had.

"Willow," Tara's calm voice, combined with a hand on her shoulder brought Willow out of her reverie.

Willow turned and placed a hand on either of Tara's elbows. "Baby? What are you doing? You're sick! You _need_ to be in bed," Willow insisted, steering Tara back toward the warm covers.

As much as Tara wanted to go back to bed, she knew she couldn't. Not when there was something so obviously wrong with her sweet freckled redhead. So she dug her heels in and turned to face Willow again.

"I'm not going back to bed unless you're joining me," Tara bargained.

"No," Willow said impatiently, "you're going back to bed and you're going with or _without_ me." Willow's face was contorted in pain and worry and frustration. "God, Tara, do you think I like this? Really do you think I _get kicks_ out of being away from you? Being _so close_ to you after _so long_ and not being able to reach out and touch you?"

Tara lifted Willow's hands and looped them around her neck, reaching to wrap her own around Willow's waist. The redhead stood there for just a second, with her eyes closed and her head back, as if drinking it all in.

"Then why don't you?" Tara asked, the statement beginning to sound mundane. She stared at Willow's beautifully blissful face, "I've been away from you for almost five years and I don't want to be away from you anymore."

Then Willow seemed snapped back to reality and retreated a few steps back and began pacing to avoid Tara's grasp. "You don't understand, Tara," she growled with frustration.

The blonde started to sway unstably then, and Willow had to reach out to catch her before she fell. "That's it, Tara," Willow stated firmly, "back to bed. Now. This isn't up for debate anymore."

"What are you so worried about?" Tara demanded bitterly as Willow helped her back into bed. "I mean, if anything happened to me, what would be the difference between then and now- when you won't even touch me? What's the difference between when you can't and when you won't?"

Willow clutched Tara's hand as tears started sliding from her cheeks. "I. Can't. Lose. You," she said emphatically. "Okay? I can't lose you again because I hurt you _or _because something happened to you. I've done both, and I can't do either ever again. I love you too much."

Tara pulled Willow closer while again lifting up the blankets for her to join in. "You won't hurt me, Willow," Tara told her certainly when Willow was wrapped in her arms. "_I_ know you won't, even if _you_ don't. Five years is a long time, baby. I believe."

Despite herself, Willow let herself fall deeper into Tara. "How do you know?"

"I have faith in you, Willow," she replied, kissing Willow's hair gently. "Love is faith. That's what I learned in Heaven. Love is faith and I love you and I know you love me, so I know you won't hurt me. I know you love me more than magic, so you won't use magic against me or any of the others."

Willow, for once, was at a loss for words. Tara was right, this time was different. Sure, she used magic, but she didn't use it for _everything. _She used it to fight demons, heal wounds, handle mystical problems, and she just didn't use it for personal reasons anymore. It had been years since magic was the first thought that came to her mind when she woke up, now it was always Tara or work. So why _was_ she so worried? And why was she so stuck on this? One thing Willow was sure of, she was tired of fighting with Tara.

**-II-**

As worried as he was about the world ending, Wesley couldn't bring himself to feel panicked as the others did. Not when the one thing he had wanted so badly for years was here in his arms now.

"I'm so sorry, Fred," he apologized to her as they sat in her old room at the Hyperion. "We truly tried everything we could think of. If I had known that The Dagger of Avalon wasn't a myth, I would have tried that as well."

Fred smiled sweetly, pressing her fingers to Wesley's lips. "Ssh, I know that," she assured him. "I saw it. All of it." She was silent and contemplative for awhile. "It was worse than having my soul incinerated. It was like... I was here, but I wasn't. All I could do was watch; I couldn't talk to any of you or touch you, or anything else corporeal really. I was worse than a ghost... I was a memory."

"Were you in pain?" Wesley asked curiously. He held both of Fred's dainty hands in one of his, using his other to brush away the silent tears that slipped down her cheeks.

"Not in the physical sense," she replied. "But, emotionally, yes. Only Illyria could see me, and I hated her at first, but I saw the way she cared for you. I felt better knowing that she was looking out for you, that she had respected me enough to do so."

"Can you see her now?" Wes questioned, looking around as if Illyria might suddenly appear from thin air.

Fred smiled and shook her head. "No, but I can sense The Dagger," she explained. "I can sense Illyria's essence. She and I are tied together now."

The two were silent for a long time as Fred played with the buttons on Wesley's shirt and he watched her lovingly. For awhile, the rest of the world ebbed away; there was no Illyria, no slayers or watchers, no vampires or demons, nothing wrong in the world. It was just them.

"Wesley?" Fred asked, calling him back from his perfect world.

"Yes, my dear?"

Fred hesitated, wondering whether or not it was smart to ask. _I've been waiting three years_, she thought forcefully. _It's past time._

"Did you mean what you said?" she asked. "When Illyria was taking me over and I asked if you would have loved me?"

The ex-Watcher's face broke into the brightest of smiles. "Now why would I have said that, had I not meant it?" he teased her gently. Fred shrugged and Wesley continued, "Of course I did, Fred. I've loved you all along."

Fred stood up abruptly and Wesley followed her, worried that she would try to run for it now that she was alive and well, hearing it the second time. Fred, however, stayed put and merely looked at Wesley with all the adoration in her eyes that most people knew in a lifetime.

"Good," she told him, "because I was afraid I was going to have to _make_ you fall in love with me."

"And why would that be a concern now?" Wes inquired, utterly perplexed.

"Because I've spent three years without you, and I don't want to have to wait another to be able to tell you that I love you too."

Wesley found himself sweeping Fred into his arms and spinning her around, causing her to squeak and laugh. He kissed her passionately, and soon clothes were being shrugged off and words were no longer need. It didn't matter anyway, as neither spoke again that night.

**-III-**

Connor, Dawn, and Jillian lounged in Jillian's room, relaxing and talking and letting the melodies played on 102.7 drift quietly out the window into the night air. Connor had plopped down and stretched out on Jillian's persian throw rug on the floor, Dawn had taken up residency on Jill's fluffy moon-and-stars comforter spread across the feather bed, and Jillian herself was curled into her papasan chair in the corner. Their talk was nothing more than idle chatter until Kennedy blew into the room.

"Um... we've got trouble," she proclaimed authoritatively.

The trio groaned, letting their heads fall back. All three erupted into complaints.

"Seriously, Kenn?" Jillian demanded. "We _just_ reensouled Fred."

Dawn reluctantly got to her feet. "I have a serious case of jet lag so this had better be good, Kennedy," Dawn grumbled tiredly.

Ten minutes later, the LA stationed gang had all convened in the drawing room, even their detective friends.

"You two found something?" Angel asked Kennedy and Savannah, looking at them with a steely gaze.

"Oh yeah," Kennedy replied. "A potential apocalypse-altering something." She looked at Savannah, who nodded encouragingly. "We found their base, and you'll never guess who's leading them."

"The First?" Willow guessed fretfully. "Please don't say The First. I've have enough First to last me a lifetime."

"It's not someone you'll have heard of," Kennedy answered daringly. She looked directly at Angel, Wes, and Fred, "It's Lindsey McDonald."

"Lindsey McDonald as in _the_ Lindsey McDonald?" Fred questioned. "The one who tried to kill Angel like a million times over, Lindsey? Fell in love with Darla, Lindsey? Died three years ago, Lindsey?"

"Brainy Smurf is right," Spike said over his line, a sadistic smirk plain on his face, "McDonald is dead, Junior."

Kennedy looked at all the faces in the room; Savannah, Wesley, Angel, Buffy, Fred, Owen, Willow, Tara, Giles, Jenny, Xander, Dawn, Jillian, and Connor, as well as the faces of her friends overseas. Tara was ill, Cordelia had been stabbed, Faith was dying as they stood there arguing. There wasn't time.

"Spike," Kennedy said patiently, pushing her panic down, "so are you and Angel. So are Fred and Wesley and Tara and Cordelia, Doyle, Jenny, and Gunn. Half of us are dead ourselves. Who's to say he isn't dead and leading them anyway? Dammit, Buffy's died _twice_!"

"Yeah, Kennedy, thanks for bringing that up," Buffy remarked dryly. "Definitely some of my favorite memories."

"Sorry," Kennedy replied quickly. "But, somehow, Lindsey is alive and leading all Evil. What's worse is that he's going to try to bring Wolf, Ram, and Hart _back_ into this world. Which hasn't been done in-"

"Six hundred years," finished a voice that the majority of the room recognized.

Short, yet slender with ruby red lips and an angular face, they all turned to find none other than Anya Jenkins, ex-vengeance demon and a former member of the Scooby Gang. Strangely enough, unlike the others who had risen again before her, Anya appeared to have aged slightly, like she would have had she survived to live the last three years.

"Ahn?" came Xander's shocked voice.

The newcomer looked at Xander sadly. "In the reborn flesh," the woman answered bitterly. She turned to look at the leading vampire. "Angel," she hummed softly, "it's been a long time."

"Sixty years," Angel returned. "So... you're back?"

Anya seemed to start and then cringe. "That's not important right now," she snapped in an entirely Anya-like fashion. "What _is_ important is that you stop Lindsey from bringing back the Senior Partners."

"Um... not to ask the obvious, but... what exactly will happen if they come back?" Dawn asked unsurely.

"They'll return the Old Ones to power," Anya explained. She looked at Buffy, "The Master?" Then she turned to Wesley, Angel, and Fred, "Illyria?"

"So, basically, Hell on earth?" Connor inquired offhandedly.

"Basically," Anya answered in the same tone.

"Great," Kennedy intoned sarcastically.

**-IV-**

"So how bad are you wigging right now?"

Kennedy looked up to meet Savannah's gaze. "I'm bringing Oz and Nina home," she told the blonde blankly. "I'm bring them home. Buffy can decide what she wants to do with the other slayers, but Angel's and my people are coming home and launching an attack while the other side is on standstill."

Savannah came into Kennedy's office and perched on the edge of the brunette's desk, taking the woman's notes and diagrams away from her boldly. The lieutenant looked over the battle plans with a critical eye. "You need someone to defend the Hyperion," she pointed out sagely. "It's not smart to leave home-base free for the taking."

Kennedy looked at the woman oddly, smirking while her eyes fogged over and became glassy. "You know, I think I like it when you talk war tactics with me," the brunette hummed warmly.

Savannah looked at the girl like she had gone crazy. "We've got the makings of World War Three on our hands here and you're hitting on me?" she asked disapprovingly.

"I never have been very practical," Kennedy returned simply. "And yes, if the world ends in two months, I want to know that those last two months were the best of my life."

"Are you always such a romantic?" Savannah demanded flatly.

Kennedy stood up and leaned in closer to the detective. "Only when it counts," she whispered coyly. She leaned in a bit closer, until their lips were barely a few centimeters apart, "I might kiss you now."

"I might enjoy it," Savannah whispered back in warning. "A lot."

**-V-**

Dawn had been researching for so many hours that she felt like her brain was literally turning to mush. Her eyes had long ago become itchy and dry, and she didn't know if her voice would work anymore.

"How goes the research, Dawnmeister?" Xander asked, walking into the library and snatching a book off of the table.

Willow finally looked up from her book, eyes coming to rest on the younger woman. "Dawnie, you should get some sleep," the redhead told her gently. "You look like you haven't slept in a week."

"It's okay," Dawnie returned, squeezing Willow's hand across the table and shooting Tara a smile. "I've got everything under control. I just wish Wesley still had that damn book, it would make this so much easier." She groaned, sitting back and stretching.

Anya came into the room then, a strained smile crossing her features. "Willow, Tara, Angel wants to know if you've found anything yet," the ex-demon informed them, setting a hand on Xander's shoulder naturally.

The couple looked at Dawn. "Dawnie's been doing most of the work," Willow explained. They both smiled proudly at the youngest member of their family.

Anya turned to Dawn. "So have you found anything yet?" she asked, her old brusqueness returning.

Dawn seethed in annoyance as Anya sat down next to Xander and took his other hand, like no time had passed at all. She knew she should have been happy for them, especially after the time they had spent apart. Instead, Dawn found her chest feeling a heavy, stingy sensation.

She closed her book with an aggressive '_swap!'_ and slammed it down onto the table. "No," she snapped at the older woman, "but when I have I'll be sure to tell _Angel_." With that, Dawn stood up abruptly and swept out of the room.

Willow and Tara looked at each other in confusion, got up, and followed her out.

"Dawn! Hey! Wait a second, sweetie!" Willow called after her, pulling Tara along by the hand.

Dawn had sprinted down the hallway, into a deserted corridor away from the main hallway, and sat down against the wall. Silent tears soaked her denim blue jeans as she rested her forehead against her knees.

Tara spotted the girl first, and strode toward her without hesitation. "Dawnie? Sweetie?" she asked, dropping down next to the brunette and wrapping her arms around her tightly.

"Tell us what's going on, sweetheart," Willow added, pushing hair away from Dawn's face as the girl looked up. "What was that back there?"

Dawn pulled her sleeves over her hands and swiped at her eyes. "Nothing," she snapped. They looked at her disbelievingly. "I can't tell you," she cried defeatedly.

Willow crawled toward her, putting her back to the wall and pulling Dawn against her. She rocked them side to side, pulling Dawn's hair out of her eyes, smoothing the girl's face and pressing kisses to her hair.

"It's just me, Dawnie," Willow told her softly. "It's only Will. Willow and Tara, Tara and Willow. It's only us. You can tell us anything. You used to."

Dawn choked on another sob. "Things have changed," she countered. "I grew up."

Willow shook her head. "I know that, but you're still our Dawnie," she whispered. "I know how much you've grown up, Dawn. I watched it happen. Everyday I watched you grow up. You're not a little girl anymore, but you'll always be my Dawnie. And, hey, I'll always be your Willow!"

Dawn laughed, taking the hand that Tara had offered out to her. "I love you guys," she giggled.

"We love you too, Dawnie," Tara told her quietly, cupping Dawn's cheek. "So tell us, what's up?"

Dawn sighed shakily. "I accidentally fell in love with one of my best friends," she told them.

Tara and Dawn jumped when Willow suddenly started laughing like a maniac. "I'm sorry," she apologized through fits of laughter. "I'm just laughing"- giggles- "because I was in the same position when I was your age." Willow was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down from her eyes.

The other two women exchanged smiles and Tara leaned forward to kiss the redhead, assuaging her laughter. When they broke apart, Willow had a dreamy look on her face, and she turned to her younger complement. "And look how that turned out for me," she commented, then her gaze slid back to the blonde beside them.

"Uh... yeah, but in order for it to go good for you guys you had to break up the Scoobies, put it back together, get Tara's family to admit that she _wasn't_ a demon after all, get brainsucked, lose your best friend to a hellgod, get addicted to magic, break up, get back together and die for three years," Dawn pointed out emphatically. She sighed, "I don't want that to happen to Xander and I. At least, not him."

"Aha!" Willow exclaimed, "so it _is_ Xander that you have a thing for! I might have known."

Dawn looked at her again like she had lost it. "Which isn't really the point, Will," she argued. "I can't be with him. I'm not human, not really anyway."

"But you care about him?" Tara asked gently.

Dawn nodded, more tears falling. "I love him."

"Then tell him, Dawnie," Willow ordered her. "It's Xand, he'll get it."

Dawn looked at them sadly. "He's with Anya now."

"Anya-Smanya," Willow griped. "If you love him, go for it. Otherwise you'll have to endure the sight of them being together for, like, ever."

Dawn gave her a dubious look.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 8- Second Part

Nina felt safe with Oz in Tibet. They spent their nights training with the monks, and their days were spent in each other's arms. It hadn't been two months, but Nina knew that Oz was the one she had been looking for.

She watched the sunrise from the room in the monastery they were staying in, still dressed in her clothes, while Oz spoke with Angel on the phone. She tuned out the conversation, though she could have listen in with her wolf-hearing, preferring instead to hear it from Oz rather than from Angel. She knew that Oz would tell her the truth, even if she could already imagine the state of her hometown now.

Lost in her reverie, Nina didn't hear Oz's footsteps until her had wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "We're going home," he whispered in her ear.

She turned around in his arms so that she could look him in the eye. "Home... as in LA?" she asked, slightly surprised. Kennedy was her best friend, and the young slayer hadn't said a word about _bringing_ them home.

Oz just nodded stoically, as he always did. Most people would have been driven crazy by Oz's eternal composure, finding him hard to read. Nina just found it attractive, giving the other wolf the air of being strong and stable, and she knew the deeply philosophical mind he really had from when he had taught her to control the wolf. She could search the universe and never find another man like Daniel Osbourne.

"Kennedy's pulling us out, apparently she found the other side's base of operations. We're going home to take them down- all of us," he made clear. "Buffy told her that she's going to break the squadrons she already has in half to cover more positions. Her best are meeting us in Los Angeles."

Nina shook her head to clear it. "We're getting closer. Slayers everywhere are on red alert, Kennedy's planning to take down their base." She looked at Oz and smiled, "we're closer now. We're going to stop them. I can feel it."

"Me too," Oz told her, and then he kissed her. They fell into each other, enjoying their moment. After all, it could be the last one they had.

**-II-**

"Um... Buffy?" Gunn's voice came from the entrance to the camp.

"Yes, Charles?" she replied back softly, not wanting to wake Faith. She was tired from sleeping on the cot, but Faith temperature had been dropping dramatically and it was all Buffy could do to keep the other girl from freezing.

"You got any why a badge- who isn't Savannah- is asking for you outside?" he asked suspiciously.

Buffy sat bolt upright. "Stay with her, keep her warm," Buffy ordered Gunn quickly. She bolted up and ran out the door.

Low and behold, Charles Gunn had not been kidding. She was startled to see Owen standing there, but he didn't seem hurt or annoyed or put-out, just concerned.

"Rough night?" Owen asked, handing her a cup of coffee. His eyes scanned her from head to toe analytically. "You look good for someone who's friend is in critical condition," he remarked, smiling.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him bewilderedly.

"I came here looking for Savannah," Owen filled her in as they walked the never-ending halls. "Turns out she and Kennedy were having a bit of a lip-lock moment, so I decided to bring you a coffee."

She looked at the detective appreciatively. "You might just be my hero right now," she told him, putting her arm through his. "Thank you so much."

"Is Faith okay?" Owen asked, grimacing. He seemed genuinely concerned, which struck Buffy as weird, considering it was Faith they were discussing.

Buffy shook her head, tears springing unwittingly to her eyes. "Her body went from feverish to the temperature being way below what it should be in a matter of hours. She can't keep her eyes open for very long and she trembles. I've never seen anything like it," Buffy explained helplessly.

"You want to call a hospital?" Owen asked her quickly. "I can make a call and they'll be here within the half hour.

Buffy shook her head, not trusting a hospital with Faith. "No, Faith and hospitals don't mix well," she explained. "She was in a coma for eight months in one, so they're not really a stable environment for her."

"Gotcha," Owen replied simply. "So, is it okay if I stay for awhile? Help you keep an eye on things?"

Despite herself, Buffy smiled. "I'd like that."

**-III-**

Savannah wandered through the old hallways of the Hyperion the next day, peering into rooms that were deserted until she expected them to be empty. Luckily, the one she was looking for was not.

"Where is everyone?" she asked Kennedy, coming into the other woman's office.

"Officially?" Kennedy replied, without looking up. "Fred is in the lab with Dawn, Willow and Tara, and Wesley is leading research of our findings with Jillian and Connor." She finally looked up at the gorgeous blonde. "Boss man went to pick up our friends from the air port. In actuality, they're all kinda slacking off."

Savannah took the seat across from Kennedy. "So you're really bringing them here?" she questioned, somewhat in awe.

"Have to," Kennedy answered brusquely, slapping another manilla file onto her pile.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Savannah said quietly after a second.

Kennedy, totally missing the picture, began to answer, "No, we really-"

"Not the bringing your people home thing," Savannah stopped her. "That 'I-could-care-less-I'm-a-tough-girl' act." She looked at Kennedy seriously. "I understand that you're a very strong person, but it's okay to freak out at times like these. I do it all the time."

Kennedy looked at her oddly, as if really seeing her for the first time. "You'd better be very careful what you say, Lieutenant," she told Savannah. "You're making it oddly easy for me to fall for you right now."

Savannah placed her hands on Kennedy's desk and leaned across it. "Maybe I'm not afraid of that," she challenged coyly.

Kennedy looked at the other woman with some suspicion. "Maybe you should be." She leaned in and kissed Savannah gently.

A knock came at the door then, causing the two women to break apart and look up.

"Well jeez, Kenn, if I had known that you were entertaining guests," laughed the wiry African-American woman from the doorway.

Kennedy smiled at her old best friend, looking at the woman and remembering time not so unlike these. That was when they had all become closer than friends and become slayer-sisters. Seeing Rona now, was no different from seeing her in Cairo a few months back or fighting alongside her in Sunnydale.

"Rona," Kennedy greeted the girl. She stepped around the desk to hug her old friend tightly. "Flight good?"

Rona looked at her with a skeptical look. "Yeah right. My plane from Cairo touched down in New York," she explained frustratedly. "Wanna guess who was with me on the six hour flight to LA?"

"Violet," Kennedy said knowingly. "Ro, you're going to be in the same hotel as her for a couple weeks. Don't you think it would be nice to at least talk to her?"

Rona dropped into the seat next to Savannah's vacated one. "She's made it perfectly clear that she doesn't want to see or talk to me," the dark-skinned slayer muttered defiantly. Rona turned her eyes back to Savannah, "Hi, sorry about that. I always tell Kenn the details before we exchange pleasantries."

Savannah laughed. "Don't worry, my best friend and I are exactly the same," she answered lightly. Savannah held out her hand to the newcomer, "I'm Savannah Evans, by the way. I'm a detective for the Los Angeles Police Department, we're working with you guys to take care of your Big Bad problem before it spreads anymore than it already has."

"Cool," Rona remarked indifferently. "I take it you two are dating then?" she asked, referring to Kennedy and Savannah with a gesture.

They looked at each other, clearly caught off-guard by the question. Were they dating? They had kissed, they felt attracted to each other, but that was different.

"We haven't really-" Kennedy began, but she was cut off by another person entering the room.

"Dude, plane trip from Tokyo to Los Angeles? Very interesting," Satsu announced, waltzing into the room confidently.

"Kon'nichiwa, Satsu-sen," Kennedy said, enveloping the Japanese slayer into a hug. She looked at Savannah, "Sav, this is Satsu. She's another of the slayer-sisters."

Savannah stepped up to her. "Hey, it's nice to meet you," she greeted the girl. She turned to Kennedy, "I'll let you have your slayer-reunion. I should go find Owen and make sure he hasn't slain _himself_ in this place yet."

"Cool. I'll, uh, see you later," Kennedy told her.

Savannah walked out the door, only looking over her shoulder once, before disappearing into the hallway.

Rona and Satsu looked at her expectantly. "Tell us everything."

**-IV-**

Dawn and Jillian were careful not to get into too much trouble while Buffy was occupied with Faith and Kennedy was on the verge of an all out mental breakdown. Wesley and Giles had taken to debriefing the newcomers, with Xander there to act as a comic relief. Oz and Nina returned safely to Los Angeles. Everyone was home, but things were far from normal.

"Dad and Kennedy look like they're going to go into mental shock at the drop of a hat," Connor informed them, coming into Jillian's room, which had become their safe haven lately.

"It kind of scares me that Buffy hasn't checked in with me yet," Dawn admitted quietly. "I really hope she and Faith are okay."

Jillian wrapped a comforting arm around Dawn's shoulders. "I'm sure they're okay, sweetie," Jill lied reassuringly. "Let's go to Fred's lab, see if she has anything for us yet."

Just then a siren began blaring through the halls of the Hyperion and the three looked at each other.

"The alarm," Jillian said, "someone's trying to ambush the Hyperion."

**-V-**

The Slayer couldn't help but freak when she heard Angel's alarm go off. "Crap," she yelled, looking to Owen. She took and deep breath and exhaled, willing her own heart rate to slow before she had a stroke. "You know, one of these days, I _am_ going to stop fighting demons and find someone to spend the rest of my life with who _doesn't_ have Wicca powers or an eye patch, much as I love my friends." She looked at her uneasily sleeping counterpart. "I think that person is going to have to be _very_ understanding about my lifestyle though."

Owen nodded, as they checked Faith over. "I really wanna be here when that happens," he agreed. He looked at the door that separated the room they were in from the rest of the hotel. "You two go," he told her. "I'll watch over her."

"What happened to wanting to be in the fight?" Buffy challenged, wincing internally and hoping Owen wouldn't change his mind. Gunn hung back, waiting for the Slayer.

He just looked at her seriously. "I'm in the fight of her life," he answered, nodding to the Dark Slayer.

Buffy nodded and started leaning toward Faith. She immediately felt her heart race once more and groaned in exasperation. She touched Faith's hand and the girl started.

It was nice to see Faith not blue again, to see her other part with those pouty lips pulled into a self-assured smirk. She almost smiled at the sight, but then told herself that that would have been crazy. She leaned over and, as she had done years ago when she had put Faith into a coma, she kissed Faith's forehead.

"Yo, B," Faith greeted her, smirking painfully. Then she saw Buffy's expression. "What's up? What's wrong?" She reached forward and grabbed Buffy's shoulders, looking the blonde slayer in the eyes.

"I think the Hyperion is under attack," Buffy told her.

Faith stood up from her bed and lifted up a canvas backpack, withdrawing a crossbow. She slammed a wooden arrow into the crossbow and grinned at her counterpart. "Come on, B, it's time to fight," she said gidily.

Now it was Buffy's turn to put her hands on Faith's shoulders. "Faith, you just recovered from a life-threatening... we-don't-even-know-what. You _can't_ fight right now," she protested.

Then Faith did the last thing that Buffy was expecting her to- she pulled Buffy into an awkward hug. "Thanks for looking out for me, B," she told the other slayer, "but I got this covered."

Buffy looked nervously at Gunn, who shrugged, and Owen, who just took her hand supportively and pulled her out into the skirmish.

**-VI-**

Nina, Kennedy, Fred, Jillian, and Dawn were freaking out. Cordelia barked orders from the front of the lobby and Angel arranged his men and the slayers into formation. It didn't escape any of them that Angel put Spike in the front as usual.

"We're going to die," Jillian said with monotonous panic.

"Don't think that," Kennedy snapped at her younger sister. "Think more positively."

Jillian paused in thought, her fingers still flying over the keyboard where she was trying to activate the security cameras. "We're not going to have to see the world end?" she tried.

"And why won't we have to see the world end?" Dawn encouraged her, tapping away herself.

"Because we're going to die _way_ before that ever happens," Jillian responded bluntly.

Oz came up to Jillian and began tapping in her place, gently pushing her hands off of the keyboard. "Jenny, Willow, and Tara need you right now," he told her. "I can handle this. Go on ahead."

Jillian hugged him from behind, thinking that it might be the last time she ever got to do so. "Good luck," she told him sadly.

Nina came and enveloped the younger girl into a tight hug, before turning to take over for Dawn. The younger Summers took Jillian's hand tightly as they walked toward the circle of Wiccans, and Jillian barely noticed when Connor took her other hand. All three had seen plenty of battles, but this one seemed somehow worse.

"Wait a second," Jillian said quickly, letting go of her best friends' hands. She sprinted back to Kennedy and threw herself at her sister, wrapping the raven-haired Pryce girl in the tightest hug ever. "Please be careful," she pleaded with her sister. "I wouldn't know what to do without you."

"Same to you, Jilly Bean," Kennedy whispered into Jillian's ear. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jillian replied quickly, and then ran back to join her magical friends.

**-V-**

Wesley looked objectively at their small army. Four slayers, two Los Angeles Police detectives, a couple of half-demons, a physicist, a pair of werewolves, a melee-fighting carpenter, two rogue watchers, a miracle-vampire child, a group of witches and a duo of ensouled vampires. He had worked with less, but he was thinking that this fight required more.

"We won't be able to hold them off for long," he murmured to Angel.

"We won't have to hold them off for long," Angel answered. "Just until Buffy gets here."


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14-

Willow's heart hammered as Ms. Calendar explained to them that this was a purely defensive attack, meaning that they didn't touch these demons if the demons showed no signs of doing so first. That didn't assuage Willow's worry even a little bit. It was bad enough that she had to use magic in battle, but the fact that all she could think of was Tara getting hurt put her that much closer to the darkness that lived inside of her.

As the group dispersed, Willow took Tara by the hand and pulled her to a secluded corner of the lobby. She pulled her love close and held her angelic face.

"I love you. Get out of here," Willow ordered her vehemently.

Tara took a step back, surprised by the command and the pleading in Willow's tone. "What? Willow, no," she argued. "I'm here. I'm staying here with you. I'm not going anywhere that you can't come with me."

Willow shook her head furiously, tears threatening to fall. "No, Tara," she contended. She looked at Tara with an intense desperation in her eyes. "Please," she begged, "please go and be safe. I can't lose you again."

"You won't," Tara promised. "But I can't leave you now, Willow. I need to be here with you." Before Willow could protest further, Tara had wrapped Willow in her arms and held her so tightly that the redheaded Wicca could almost believe that they would be fine. When Tara kissed her and the world ebbed away as it always did, Willow had a hard time reminding herself that they were in a roomful of people preparing for a fight to the death.

"When all of this is over, I am going to have you all to myself for a very long period of time," Tara told her matter-of-factly.

Willow smiled a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. Then the doors banged open and hell brooke loose.

**-II-**

Doyle held Cordelia's hand firmly in his as the doors banged open and forty demons leapt at them full of fury. He smirked at her boldly and morphed into his Brachen physiology, charging toward the oncoming enemies.

It wasn't until then that Cordelia got moving herself, picking up a long sword and slashing at the pressing demons, who snarled and spat at her. She could feel her old familiarity with the sword returning to her and she realized with a start that she had used that same sword in her training with Angel. She knew this fight, because she had fought it so many times before, but now she possessed all her reflexes and moves from her cheerleader days _and_ the demonic powers she had required before her death.

Cordy levitated into a roundhouse kick and flipped mid-air over members of the Lillith. She gritted her teeth and smiled over at Francis Allen Doyle, the man who had given her her visions and had made her fall in love with him.

"Now pay attention to what you're doing and don't get stabbed again," he told her condescendingly.

"Oh _shut up_," she snapped back at him, still smiling. She twisted the head of a vampire, breaking its neck just as it was about to bite her. "Hey Doyle," she called to him.

"Yeah," he struggled to say as he battled another vampire.

She bit her bottom lip momentarily, levitating to the other side of Doyle's vamp and staking him through the back with a stake from her boot. He exploded into dust and Cordelia tucked the stake back into her shoe. "Remember"- she paused to quickly deflect a spell shot at her with a murmur of '_alunga_'. "Remember when you said that we'd never get to know if I could love your demon face?" she asked, deflecting another curse with the blade of her sword.

He took a handful of powder from his leather jacket, scattering it at the feet of the warlock so that it built up around him and created a holding cell. He then turned to her with a peculiar look on his face. "Yeah?" she asked, dodging the fist of a Crechek demon.

"Well," she continued, kneeing the demon in its stomach. "I know now."

He stopped, earning a whack over the head by a different demon with grisly purple skin. He struggled to his feet, looking like the blow had knocked the breath out of him. "And?" he gasped desperately.

She pulled him out of the way of the unknown purple demon. "I do," she told him, looking into his pale turquoise eyes. She pulled a vampire, who had tried to attack her from behind, over her shoulder and threw him to the ground and staked him. She stood back up and looked at him again. "I love every part of you, Doyle." She touched the spiky skin of his face, "Even this part."

He pushed melee-mussed hair out of her face. "Good. _Now_ will you marry me?" he asked.

Her face went slack. "What?"

**-III-**

"Um... was this part of the plan?" Fred demanded of her boys and the rest of the Fang Gang, gripping the crossbow in her hands for dear life.

"I'm thinking more or less so," Kennedy answered breathlessly, standing back for a moment to watch Savannah appreciatively.

Fred shot her crossbow once and managed to dust two vampires. "As long as we have _some_ idea what we're doing," she answered gleefully.

"Don't worry, Fred," Dawn assured her, dropping to the ground and rolling to avoid a steady stream of fire. The young, limber girl hopped back up resiliently. "We've got it all under control."

"Sure, for now, but I'd really like to get these goons _out_ of our house," Nina put in, swinging her battle axe and beheading three demons in one fell swoop. "Do you know how much cleaning we're going to have to do after this?"

Jillian landed a few expert blows and took a few before she was able to say, "Why don't we light this damn lobby up like the fourth of July?" As an afterthought she added, "_aika hidas_!"

Immediately the demons began to move as if someone had hit the slo-mo button on them. The gang looked around wildly at her in shock. She merely shrugged.  
"I think we might have a enough time to flick a couple of matches on these guys and give them a good send off," she announced happily.

Connor and Dawn looked at her incredulously. "Seriously, Jill? You couldn't have tried that a few minutes ago? Or, hey, here's a wacky idea- a half hour ago!" Connor demanded hysterically.

"Well, um... I didn't actually think of this half and hour ago," she admitted.

They looked around the room at the mayhem that surrounded them. Vamp-ash covered the floor, mixed in with demon guts and goo. Shamans, sorcerers, warlocks, and witches were trapped in magical holding forces. Only a handful of demons remained. And then the wall exploded with a bang.

**-IV-**

The minute the dust settled and Willow saw who was standing in the new 'entrance' to the Hyperion, she wished she was choking on cinder-block dust again.

"Amy," she growled venomously.

Amy Madison floated in surreally. "Miss me, Red?" she sneered.

Willow felt Tara's hand fall into hers and she turned to the love of her life. She looked into Tara's beautiful blue eyes that were now so filled with fear and worry for her lover. "Now I mean it, Tara," Willow told her painfully. "Get yourself and the others out." Willow watched Tara deliberate and added in a more forceful voice, "Go!"

She caught Kennedy's gaze from across the room and the brunette nodded once to her before whistling to their troops to form a single, solid line in front of the onslaught of still-breathing demons. They all ran backwards into the courtyard and the demons suddenly speeded up and chased after them. Willow turned her attention back to Amy.

"It's just you and me now, Amy," Willow told her.

Amy's eyes flickered black and Willow flinched as the wave of memories hit her. "I heard you almost destroyed the world," the other witch laughed at her. She looked Willow up and down, "Hard to believe now, isn't it?"

The dark magic hit Willow before she even had time to deflect it. She felt an unfamiliar searing pain spread across her body and could only assume that her being was now unaccustomed to the black magic that Amy was wielding against her. She only had time to fall to the ground from the pain before Amy was standing next to her, pushing against Willow's shoulder with her foot so that Willow was on her back.

"Tsk, tsk," Amy leered at her. "I at least was expecting a good fight before I killed you." Amy pretended to think for a moment. "Oh well," she concluded poisonously, "I guess I'll have to settle for torturing you first."

**-V-**

Buffy hurried through the halls of the Hyperion with Faith, Gunn, and Owen hot on her heels. When they reached the first floor balcony and looked down to the ground floor, Buffy almost launched herself over the balcony right there. Her heart slammed into her chest more when she saw the scene in the courtyard and Gunn followed her gaze.

"I should go help them," Gunn told her. He turned to Owen, "Can you lend a hand?"

Owen pulled out a carbine, loaded with wooden bullets. They looked at each other briefly and then Owen smiled. "I'm in," he said quickly, and the two took off for a different staircase that led to the courtyard.

Faith and Buffy looked at each other and Faith clasped Buffy's hand in a strong grasp. "We need to help, Red," she said, looking down to a screaming Willow in the lobby. "The staircase that will lead down to that hall there"- she indicated a spot behind Amy- "is just down this hallway. You go down the main and distract the witch- I'll corner her."

Faith started to turn away but Buffy caught her by the arm. "Faith, are you sure you're up for this?" she asked worriedly.

Faith smirked self-confidently. "Five by five, B," she answered and took off down the hall toward her position, leaving Buffy looking dubiously after her.

"Please let this work," she prayed to whatever power was listening.

**-VI-**

Willow could feel the darkness welling up inside of her. She could feel it strangling her, suffocating her. She felt her eyes change to coals and her hair grow jet black.

"Tara," she gasped desperately.

"Your lover can't hear you now, Willow-dearest," Amy crooned sadistically, "but you can keep calling for her if you'd like."

Willow groaned and then, through the veil across her eyes that was her eyelashes, she saw a fierce brunette stalking toward them and ready to pounce. From behind her she heard, "Back off, Amy."

"Buffy," Willow wheezed. She heard Buffy's footsteps coming closer to her, but she hadn't taken more than a few footsteps when Willow felt another blast of dark magic ring through her and she curled into herself, hissing from the pain.

"You don't have the power to stop me, slayer," Amy taunted Buffy.

Willow struggled to keep her eyes open and listen the voices and footsteps around her. Consciousness was slipping away from her and, if she gave in, the darkness would take over and she couldn't let that happen with Tara so near. What if she really did hurt her love? She would never be able to live with herself.

"I don't," Buffy agreed with the wicked witch, "but _she_ does." Buffy's head inclined to Faith.

No sooner had Amy turned around then Faith charged at her and knocked her to the ground, using an antique mirror to deflect the spell that Amy had casted at her. Faith pinned her down with some difficulty, as Amy fought back viciously. Faith managed to punch her once hard and Amy's body went limp, the magic around her slowly fading away.

**-VII-**

Buffy heard the footsteps of her family coming in from the courtyard, but her focus was on Willow alone. Her redheaded best friend was curled into a ball on the floor with her watery eyes squeezed shut and the last of the black fading out of the roots of her hair.

She bolted toward her friend and slid on her knees the last few feet to Willow, running her hands desperately over Willow's visage. "Will, come on, sweetie," she begged. "Come on, Will."

Willow sobbed desperately. "I can't open my eyes, Buffy," she wept fearfully. "I can't. They'll be... they'll be..." Willow became lost in her tears.

Buffy was aware of Giles and Jenny approaching and kneeling down on the other side of Willow, and Faith, Xander and Tara were hedging closer with Dawn behind them. Still, Buffy's world remained centered on her broken and cursed best friend as she pulled the petite Wicca into her arms gently.

"It's okay, Will," she assured the girl wrapping her arms around the slight frame. "You don't have to open your eyes, I'm not going to make you."

She felt Willow's arms around her shoulders, squeezing her with surprising strength for someone so small and shattered. Willow cried hard against her shoulder and Buffy didn't know what to do. She could let the rest of their family get close, but Willow was depending on _her_ right now.

"I-I'm evil," Willow sobbed.

Buffy pulled away, feeling herself beginning to cry now, and looked at Willow's shut eyes, but kept a firm grip on the girl's upper-arms. "Willow, listen to me. I have known you since we were _sixteen, _you are _not_ evil. You have been poisoned by dark magic and you can fight it. I know you can fight this, you're _so_ much stronger than this," Buffy told her weepingly.

"T-Tara," Willow choked.

"Is alive now," Buffy said. "She's alive. We all are. And we love you, okay?"

Willow nodded and slowly, almost too slowly, opened her eyes to reveal green irises and alabaster whites.

Buffy smiled and '_mmm_'ed. "Green eyes," she sing-songed.

Willow touched her eyes tenderly, as if waiting for the monster to burst forth. "Green? My eyes are green?" she asked softly.

Buffy nodded, picking her best friend up and leading her into the blonde's room without a word to the others.

**-VIII-**

Xander looked around at all the injured members of their team. Owen had sustained multiple bruises across his head and face that would probably be hard to explain around the office. Savannah had a sprained wrist, Kennedy had several minor cuts that were bleeding profusely, Vi had a bad burn that spread across her chest and shoulder and neck, and Satsu had been shot with a silver bullet in the abdomen. Wesley had a definitive black eye and split lip and even Spike and Angel looked a bit roughed up, but it wasn't until he heard Cordelia scream that he realized how bad things actually were.

He rushed over to her and immediately looked to where she was pointing to see that Charles Gunn had been impaled by a metal rod that protruded straight from his heart savagely. He rushed forward and pulled the other man off of the pole as Connor and Jillian rushed over beside him. He checked for a pulse, but he felt no beat. He looked helplessly to his young friends and Jillian stifled a sob as she slowly closed Gunn's eyes for the last time.


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15-

Cordelia buried her face in Doyle's shoulder and he held her tight as Xander and The Littles took care of Gunn, wrapping him in a black silk sheet from the Hotel. She couldn't believe that Gunn had returned just to be sent back to Heaven once more not three months later. Was this all part of The Powers' plan?

"I-I should go help Dawn get that bullet out of Satsu," Cordelia sniffled to Doyle.

He look at her, obviously torn between knowing that they needed to care for their wounded and not wanting to doubt Cordy, and being worried that she couldn't handle it. "Yeah, I'll come help," he said finally, wrapping his arm around her waist and walking over to Satsu, who was clearly in a world of pain. Jenny Calendar was using every charm she could think of to telekinetically remove the bullet.

He squeezed Cordy's shoulder and went to help Vi. Her burn was bad, a second-degree at least, and her shirt had been scorched in a way that it wasn't staying on very well. She tore it off in annoyance just as he walked over to her with a cool wet towel.

"Thanks," she told him, taking the towel and applying it to the burned part of her skin. "This hurts like hell."

"Looks like it," he conversed. "But that slayer-healing? Works like a charm. You'll be right as rain in a few days."

He felt a tap on his shoulder as the red-haired girl in front of him looked somewhere else. He turned to see Nina there, holding a box of gauze and medical tape. "I've got it from here, Doyle," she told him. "Thanks."

Doyle turned his attention to things he was more experienced with, like doing whatever Cordy told him to.

**-II-**

Tara splinted Savannah's sprained wrist and was cleaning Kennedy's cuts, but her mind was upstairs with the broken redhead that held her heart. She knew that Giles and Wesley had disappeared after Buffy and Willow and that Xander, Dawn, Fred, Spike, and Angel had been quick to follow afterwards.

"You should be up there," Kennedy said aloud, voicing Tara's thoughts.

"Hold still," Tara insisted evasively. She liked the strong, fearless, forward Kennedy, but this slayer was not the one she wanted to be talking about Willow with.

She felt Kennedy take hold of her wrist. "Tara," the raven-haired girl persisted, making Tara look her in the eye. "A love like yours and Willow's doesn't come around everyday. So why are you down here taking care of us when you should be up there taking care of _her_?"

"I'm needed down here," Tara replied stiffly, trying to break eye contact with Kennedy but the other woman was determined to get her point across.

"You're need by _her_," Kennedy told her emphatically. "So go. We can handle things down here. Go be with Willow." Kennedy's charming grin was what made Tara go, the way the blonde knew it had been what made Willow stay at The Bronze all those years ago.

"Thank you," Tara said genuinely, touching the dark-haired slayer's cheek briefly.

**-III-**

Nina was careful around Vi's burn, because if she was honest with herself, it was a pretty nasty injury. She took out a remedy that Oz had brought back from Tibet one time, and she had continued making with Angel Investigations since then.

"What is that stuff?" Vi asked softly, her voice tired and wary.

"It's a mixture of witch hazel, aloe vera, chamomile, lavender, and rosemary. Don't worry it is one-hundred-percent Kennedy-approved," Nina told her optimistically. "You don't have any blisters, so that's good, and I can put some gauze pads on this."

Vi was silent, her thought still somewhere else, and Nina noticed. "You really like her, huh?" Nina questioned.

"Who?" Vi asked quickly. She caught Nina's patented 'you're-not-fooling-me' look. "Rona. Well, it's, uh... _really_ complicated actually."

Nina shrugged. "I got turned into a werewolf when I was nineteen and my boyfriend may or may not actually _be_ my 'boyfriend' and he's also a werewolf. My best friends are vampires, a mini-gypsy, a Key to ultimate power, and a lesbian slayer," Nina rattled off. "Trust me, I'm good with 'complicated'."

Vi chuckled, but was quiet a long time. "I'm not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for her. I mean, I'm _not_ gay," she reasoned out. "And neither is she, but I know we both feel it. We have a connection that goes so much deeper than slayers or friends. It's raw and it's real and it's untried. Mostly, it's untried because, when I figured out we were both feeling this? I called Buffy up and asked if there was anywhere she could reassign me. Like New York."

"Ooh, yeah," Nina sympathized verbally. "The whole 'trying-to-get-away-from-them-because-you-think-you're-falling-for-them' thing? It never works, and it usually only pisses people off. I tried that with Angel, after we broke up, but he didn't let me and now he's like family and I'm worrying about another guy. Because he _made _me stop and _talk_ to him."

"I wish it could be that easy for me," Vi said sadly.

Nina stopped rubbing the ointment on Vi and looked at her openly. "You know, one of the things that I've learned from working here for so long? Is that the thing that complicates life the most is yourself. You're always subconsciously making things worse than they are, so sometimes if you just suck it up and face it? You win."

They both turned when they heard a knock on the door. Vi found herself face-to-face with the same woman who they had been talking about all along. "Rona."

"Hey," the black woman greeted them stiffly. "Boss-girl wants a report on everyone who was injured. I got Kennedy and her girl, they're both dealing pretty well, and Satsu _says _she's fine but she looks like death."

"Of course," Violet laughed uneasily. "She's always acting tougher than she really is." It was only then that she realized that Nina had disappeared off to somewhere, probably to check on Oz and Cordelia and Doyle. To check on her family.

"So, uh, how are you?" Rona asked, carefully stepping into the room where Nina had been caring for Vi.

Violet considered it. She had a burn the size of Texas across her upper right side, her heart rate had only slightly slowed since the fight, her heart hurt knowing that Angel had lost one of his men, and she was standing in a room with... well, she didn't even know _what_ Rona was to her anymore.

"You know, I think I've seen better days," Vi replied matter-of-factly. "One of them being the day we fought Caleb in the vineyard."

Rona took a step back in shock. "You almost died that day," she remembered painfully. "I would go with the day we fought the Turok-Han."

Vi looked at Rona seriously. "No, that was _the worst_ day of my life," she said dead-seriously. "_You_ almost died that day." She paused. "If I had to choose between reliving the day in the vineyard or the day in the Hellmouth? I'd choose the vineyard every time."

The dark-skinned girl's shock only seemed to increase. "But-but you almost _died_ the night of the vineyard," she argued.

Vi nodded calmly and gravely. "But _you_ almost died the day of the Hellmouth," she countered emphatically. "And, honestly? As scared as I was of losing my life that day in the vineyard, it was _nothing_ compared to how afraid I was of losing you."

Rona looked straight at her for the first time in years. "That's how I felt that day in the vineyard, you know," she mumbled, obviously discomforted. "And every single day after that I almost lost you."

"Did the distance make it any better?" Vi asked quietly.

Still, Rona's eyes remained on her with a seriousness. "No," she answered solemnly. "If anything, I worried more."

**-IV-**

Dawn felt sick to her stomach as she listened to the discussion that was going on in the library following Willow's torture at the hands of Amy. Buffy hadn't come out yet, but Xander held her hand tightly, letting her know that he was just as scared as she was and Fred had one arm wrapped around her as well.

"She won't let me in," Giles said, taking off his glasses and cleaning them. "I have a strange notion that this might have been rather traumatizing for her."

"No. Really, Rupert?" Spike snapped sardonically. He and Angel paced opposite each other, one heading in one direction while the other headed in the opposite, but he had stopped to ream Giles.

"She was attacked by Amy, and she wouldn't fight back," Dawn said, surprising even herself at her sudden verbiage. "She could have used her magic to fight back, but she didn't, even when her defensive spells weren't enough."

"She did the right thing," Xander agreed. "It just almost got her killed, that's all." The last part of his statement was said with simplified bitterness.

"Did she realize what would happen if when she gave up?" Fred asked.

Wesley shook his head at his girlfriend. "No, because giving up to her would mean giving into the darkness," he rationalized. "She was still fighting, just not the visible, concrete enemy that all of us saw."

"She was fighting herself," Tara murmured from the door, having come in silently. "The dark-side of her. The dark magic that's always inside of her was being fed by Amy and Willow refused to let it out."

Dawn nodded. "She was being strong. She was being Willow."

__**-V-**

Images flashed through Willow's mind , but unlike a dream, she could pull herself out of this. _Breaking the yellow crayon. Buffy's carpe diem speech and following the vampire into the graveyard. Fighting The Master. Angel losing his soul and almost killing her. Losing her best friend for three months and not knowing whether she was dead or alive. Meeting Faith and loving her and hating her. The Ascension. Oz leaving her. Meeting Tara. _Other parts came more slowly, with more detail.

Willow felt her legs slam into the ground and she knew instinctively what was happening- she was reliving these moments. The best and the worst and everything that made her who she was.

She looked around the find herself on a dark street in Sunnydale. She saw herself, trying to reach and injured Dawn, felt it herself as the girl slapped her counterpart, and she knew what she was remembering. _This is the night that Buffy realized that I was abusing magic_, she thought. _This is the night I hurt Dawnie_.

She fell to her knees in shock, not wanting to remember this but having no choice as it was all around her. "Dawn!" she screamed desperately. "Oh Goddess, Dawnie! I'm sorry, I'm so, so, sorry. Dawnie!"

**-VI-**

Dawn heard Willow's screams even her her drowsy state of half-sleep. She launched herself out of bed and was bolting down the hall before she knew what was happening. In the end, it was Dawn, followed closely by Faith, who got to Willow first.

"Faith, hold her down, I gotta wake her up," Dawn ordered the Slayer hurriedly. For once, Faith didn't argue, but just grabbed Willow's ankles and pinned her legs to the mattress.

Buffy, Xander, Giles, and Tara were there in the next instant and Angel and Wesley ran in after them, all of them looking a little shocked. Dawn wanted to just let her big sister take over, but she reminded herself that it was _her_ name that Willow was crying out in terror.

"Willow? Come on, Will! Wake up, sweetie," Dawn said, shaking Willow's shoulder roughly.

"Wills? Come on, Dawn's right here she's fine," Buffy joined her, gently slapping Willow's face.

Dawn stumbled backwards in surprise and found herself flat on her butt with Buffy and Faith nearby in the same position as Willow shot up abruptly, still screaming with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Dawnie!" Willow cried hysterically, looking around in desperation.

Dawn launched herself to her feet. "I'm right here, Willow, I'm okay." Dawn found herself holding Willow tightly to stop the girl from screaming and crying, much like Willow had done with her when she was younger.

Things were different now. The tables had turned.

**-VII-**

"I'll stay with her tonight," Dawn volunteered quickly. "She started the nightmares with me, I should watch her. I don't want anything happening to her."

"I'm not positive that these 'nightmares' are actually nightmares at all," Wesley mused. "I'm afraid that Amy's spell might have had an Orpheus affect on Willow."

Faith stepped toward the Brit, holding her hands up in mock-surrender. "Whoa, hold up a second," she ordered them. "You mean Red's having a memory trip?"

Giles took his glasses off, moving to clean them and forgetting that he was wearing nothing but striped pajamas and slippers. He replaced them hurriedly to save face. "Yes, well, it would make a rather lot of sense," Giles commented logically. "Seeing as how Amy's curse was to hurt Willow, I see no better way to hurt a soul like hers except to relive her past wrongs."

"So Willow's reliving _everything_?" Buffy demanded furiously. "Everything wrong that she's done? Hasn't she suffered enough?" Buffy tilted her head skyward and screamed, "She's suffered enough! Leave her alone!"

Xander pulled Buffy to him, almost in tears himself. "It's okay, Buff. It's okay," he consoled her. "Will's strong. She can make it out of this." He looked at the two former-Watchers. "She can make it out of this, _right?_" he questioned angrily through gritted teeth.

Giles looked Xander directly in the eye. "I see no reason that she shouldn't."


	17. Chapter 16

_**(This is mostly a Willow chapter. Just a forewarning.)**_

Chapter 16-

"We're striking their base," Kennedy informed everyone the next day in the drawing room. "Now. Or very, _very_ soon." She paced in front of them, the complete vision of authority and command. "They killed Charles Gunn, they've trapped Willow inside her own mind. They're hurting us, and I _don't_ like this.

Buffy stood up, looking at her protégé. "I'm all for the striking back, Kennedy, but we can't go running in half-cocked," she said, leaning on her hands on the table. "We need a serious plan."

Kennedy raised her eyebrows. "Like a two-front attack sort of plan?" she asked smugly.

Buffy took a step back in surprise. "Uh, well yeah, sort of," she answered, then took her seat again.

The younger slayer flipped a chalkboard over to reveal a complicated design of x's, o's, and triangles. "We send our most durable fighters in first," Kennedy began, pointing to the x's on the green scape. "That means the ones least likely to actually get killed: vampires, half-demons, vampire-hybrids, and long-time slayers. First wave goes in at noon on the day before the full moon. If we're not too damaged, we send in everybody at midnight. When the moon is at its highest." She looked at Nina and Oz, "And you guys go in phased."

Instantly, the two shot out of their seats at the same time.

"Kennedy, are you insane?"

"We've never tried to keep our human minds in wolf-form with other people around before," Oz argued hotly. That caught everyone's attention. "Plus, the moon's pull is too powerful. _We_'ll be too powerful, and we'd be risking everyone in there."

"Which is why I'm gonna have tranquilizers and wolfsbane on-stock with me," Kennedy defended quickly. She gave them both a pleading look, "Please guys, we need wolf power. I have a very specific plan for both attacks."

The two sat down begrudgingly, clasping hands and glaring at Kennedy with contempt. She just gave them a small smile and muttered, "thanks," before sitting down and letting Angel take the floor.

"Guys, this plan is risky at best, and I know that," the vampire told them. "But Kennedy's plan works. And it _is_ really specific-"

"Wait!" said Dawn suddenly, she looked around at everyone. "I think I might have an idea, but it's going to take a hell of a lot of magic." The youngest Summers looked at her best friend, and Jillian seemed to understand immediately.

"The Dagger of Avalon," she gasped. Jillian turned to the rest of the room excitedly. "It's meant to stored great power. Even... terrible power? If we were to copy the design of Avalon, we could channel the power into separate weapons and use that power against them. Like a taste of their own medicine!"

Everyone was looking at the two girls as if they had reach an entirely new level of insanity, but it was Connor who spoke up. "We wouldn't even need to make blades that _contained_ the power, just make it so that the power was channeled into a collective source," he went on, and he too earned looked of incredulity.

"No, they're right," Kennedy said quietly, but her voice echoed in the strange silence of the room. "But one thing needs to be different- there needs to be _three_ collective sources. Three that hold enough power to banish Ultimate Evil from this plane of existence. One for each of the final Chosen Two, and one for the Champion." Kennedy shot Spike an apologetic look, "And by 'Champion' I mean Angel. Sorry, Spike."

The bleached blonde vampire shrugged. "So long as I get to take out Prissy McDonald, I'm all set, junior."

Everything was quiet for a moment, and then Buffy had to speak. "You don't want to take these guys out yourself, Kennedy?" she asked genuinely.

The younger slayer shook her head defeatedly. "You have no idea how _much_ I want to take out the Senior Partners myself, Buffy," she answered honestly. "But, for all the good in the world, I'd swallow my pride and allow the three of you to handle them. Me? I just want to back-hand the witch bitch. She flung me against a wall four years ago and I'm just _itching_ to return the favor." There was a primal growl and threat in Kennedy's voice, and Buffy knew that Kennedy could handle Amy with or without magic.

Then Kennedy looked directly at Tara. "I really want to get Willow back on her feet before we go through with this though," the slayer told the Wiccan. "It doesn't seemed right to take out the forces of darkness without her. Besides, I need her to do that whole mini-sun spell she does, to take out the bad vamps before we send Spike and Angel in."

Tara smiled a small, sad smile. "She'll be back up when she can be," Tara told her. "Willow kind of runs on her own schedule, but I've never seen her be late for anything."

"Good."

**-II-**

Willow's heart hurt a little more with each memory. She witnessed dozens of them, unable to stop her counterpart from making the mistakes she remembered making. Making Buffy fall for Spike, Xander a demon magnet, and Giles blind; causing herself to become unseen to her friends after her return from England and being attacked by the gnarl demon; almost being burned at the stake by her and Buffy's mothers; turning Amy Madison back to human form; meeting Rack; making Tara forget their fighting; her tabula rasa spell.

Then she was back in her old room at the Summers' house in Sunnydale. Her counterpart and Tara were getting dressed and Willow suddenly remembered where she was- or rather, _when_.

"Hey. Clothes," her counterpart commented.

"Better not get used to them," Tara replied, grabbing her by the belt loop and pulling her in.

"Yes, ma'am," the younger Willow replied playfully, kissing Tara sweetly and holding her.

"Mmm..." Tara hummed. The blonde looked over Willow's shoulder, "Xander."

Willow broke away from her lover and began walking toward the dresser. "Okay, not quite the response I was fishing for," she replied confusedly.

"No, he's here," Tara told her.

The Willow of now breathed lowly, shutting her eyes and covering her ears. She didn't want to hear or see the rest of this. Unfortunately, she didn't have a choice, since all she saw when she closed her eyes were fleeting images.

Tara with a blossom of red across her chest; herself with black hair and eyes and veins, hurting Buffy and Xander and Dawn and Giles; Killing Warren Mears; Xander talking her down from ending the world on Kingman's Bluff. What kind of monster did these things?

"You did," said a timbre from the scene in front of her gaze. Dark Willow spoke to her with a teasing sort of casualty. "You're the monster. You and me, carrot-top."

"No," Willow said venomously, retreating back several steps. "I would _never_ do this to my friends."

Dark Willow gave her a mock-pitying look. "Ooh, but you already did. See, you and me? We're the same damn person, sweetheart," Dark Willow told her.

The scene at Kingman's Bluff change suddenly, to a pitch black landscape, but still Willow could see her dark twin and herself, as if the darkness had no affect on them. A glowing picture of Tara's laughing, happy face appeared to Willow's left and her eyes began glued on that angelic visage.

"Shame, shame," Dark Willow sing-songed tauntingly. "We don't deserve her. We _never_ deserved her. Yet she came back to us, to the world. But she doesn't belong to us anymore." Dark Willow grinned wickedly. "We're tainted by Black Magic, and Tara is purer than pure. Loving her would mean putting her at risk of the darkness, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

"_You're_ dark," Willow spat at her evil twin, "not me. I healed myself of you. I'm not dark anymore, and I love her. Nothing will ever change that, and nothing ever has. I belong to her!"

Tara's smiling face changed to one of disappointment and contempt.

"_This_ is what she will always _really _look at us like," Dark Willow crooned sinfully. "You may belong to her, but she doesn't belong with you. She deserves more."

"Then I'll _be_ more," Willow snapped in return. "I'll be whatever she needs me to be. If she doesn't love me like I love her, then I'll be her friend. I would do _anything_ to keep her in my life."

Dark Willow shook her head testily. "You still don't understand, do you?" she laughed coldly. "You're _dark_ and she's light. You can only ever bring her into darkness. You bring danger to anyone who comes near you." The images shifted. "Buffy." Her blonde-haired best friend laid on the pavement as Glory's tower glowered over them. "Xander." Her life-long friend was being attacked by the demon that her 'do-my-my-will' spell had brought out of the shadows. "Little Dawnie." Dawn, young and naïve, with an angry, tear-streaked face and a broken arm, slapping her around the face. "Giles." Giles, back from England to save her soul, crumpled and close to death in the remains of the Magic Box. "Even the woman you love." Tara, laying in a pool of her own blood, dead.

The images dissolved. "If it hadn't been for your selfishness, she wouldn't have died," Dark Willow growled, her eyes flashing violently. "You've killed, and now you have to pay the price. Your soul is damned, because your soul is _me_."

**-III-**

Tara steeled herself and knocked on the doorframe of Kennedy's office. Immediately, the dark-haired slayer looked up at her and smiled genuinely. It was hard to feel any jealousy or derision toward a girl who was so friendly, especially since ill feelings were not in Tara's nature.

"Tara," Kennedy greeted her, taking off her glasses and setting them on her desk. "Come in. Close the door if you'd like."

Tara obliged, before walking across the room and hovering awkwardly, wringing her hands. She started pacing, mostly looking at her hands, but glancing at Kennedy's patient face every few seconds. Then she stopped suddenly.

"I'm sorry, I'm not usually like this," Tara apologized, taking the seat that Kennedy had gestured her to.

The young slayer walked around the front of her desk and hoisted herself on top of it. "It's not a problem, I realize that this might be a little awkward for you," Kennedy replied carefully. There was a loaded pause. "How is she?" the slayer asked innocently enough.

Tara shrugged helplessly. "I don't know, Dawn won't let me into the room," she admitted, looking at her fidgeting hands. "Or anyone else, actually. She's being really protective of Willow right now."

Kennedy nodded thoughtfully. "What about you?" she asked, and was met with a blank stare from Tara. "How are _you_ holding up?"

Tara sighed in aggravation and stood up, resuming her to-and-fro march. "I don't know," she groaned. "I feel like I should be doing something-"

"But you don't know what," Kennedy finished for her, accompanied by Tara's vigorous and tearful nod. Kennedy got down off of her desk and walked over to Tara, hesitantly putting her arms around the blonde. The embrace was light enough that Tara could break away if she wanted, but Kennedy was relieved when she didn't and even returned the hug. "I'm not very good at comforting," the slayer informed the Wiccan. "More of an action-girl myself, but my mom always said that a hug lets someone know they're not alone with their problems. That's why Wesley and Jillian are so touchy-feely, I guess it just skipped me."

Tara broke into a watery laugh. "I didn't use to like people touching me, then I met Willow and Buffy and Dawn," she explained. "I learned to like it after that."

Kennedy waited until Tara pulled away, wiping her face, and Tara saw Kennedy's worry there. It was plainly etched across the slayer's features; worry, dread, and even fear were all there, simple for all the world to see.

Tara sat Kennedy in the chair next to the one she had vacated. "Are you okay?" the witch asked the slayer.

Kennedy rubbed her face tiredly. "I don't sleep anymore," the slayer admitted. "I only eat because I don't want to worry Jillian. I'm constantly on edge and my best friend just lost one of his men for the second time in four years, which is a statement that would only make sense in our family. Basically? An apocalypse is coming and I'm scared that we might actually lose this time. And I'm scared for you and I'm scared for Willow. I'm especially scared for Savannah, because she didn't ask for this."

Tara nodded, understanding the gravity of everything that was running through Kennedy's mind as the threat of hell rising became more eminent with the passing days. She also caught something that she was pretty sure the dark-haired girl hadn't meant for her to.

"Savannah. You're falling for her," Tara comment. "Death, destruction, doomsday. And, on top of all that, you're falling in love with an LAPD Detective who knows a little too much about our world. I've got to admit, you've got a ton on your plate." Then Tara went over, pulled Kennedy to her feet, and wrapped her arms around the junior slayer. "But you're not alone with your problems," she told her. "I can share them with you. I don't mind sharing anything, except for Willow."

Kennedy pulled away laughing. "No arguments here," she replied. "That ship sailed a long time ago. Actually, I'm not ever sure if it even existed in more than blueprints. Because it was always you. You were it for her. You're her one and her only. Forever."

**-IV-**

"So..." Doyle began, walking alongside Cordelia. "Are you ever going to answer my question?"

Cordelia looked at him as if he were insane. "You were serious about that?" she demanded in surprise.

The Irish half-demon looked down sheepishly, a guilty blush creepy across is neck and face. "Well, yeah. I want you to marry me, Cordy," he mumbled in answer. "If you do that, I don't think I'll ever need to ask for anything ever again."

Cordelia looked around the lobby. Her friends were still battle-beaten and war-wounded, her family was broken over the death of Gunn and her heart felt like it was bleeding. Then she looked at the man who had wanted to spend the rest of his life with her since the moment he met her, and things got a little better. Things always got a little better when Doyle was around.

It was fast, it was sudden, and it was scary, but where else would Cordelia ever want to be? Who else had ever loved her like Doyle did? Who else ever could? Before, she had been attracted to him and had gone on living life without him, but after years in Heaven together, could she do that now? She couldn't picture her life without Doyle. She realized with a start that she couldn't picture _herself_ without Doyle standing beside her. She had never known life or love like she knew it with Francis Allen Doyle.

"I will marry you on two conditions, Doyle," she bartered with him.

"I would expect nothing less," he responded, grinning from ear to ear.

She shot him an unamused look. "Okay. One, I still get to call you Doyle, because you will always be Doyle to me," she told him.

Doyle crinkled his nose. "If you start calling me Francis, I might have to leave you, Cordy," he replied dryly.

She rolled her eyes. "Secondly, I get to keep _my_ last name," she finished.

"Deal," he answered as soon as she was finished. Then he pulled her against him and kissed her like an entire lobby full of people weren't watching.

**-V-**

Willow was in a lot of pain when she finally came to. She sat bolt upright with a gasp, causing a half-sleeping Dawn to fall out of her chair and to the floor near Willow's bed. Immediately, Willow was in tears again and the youngest Summers had never been as scared for the red-haired Wiccan as she was just then.

Dawn climbed onto the bed and held Willow, even when the redhead tried to pull away from her. "No, no no, Willow," Dawn shushed her. "It's only me. I'm here, okay? I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. I don't care what you do, I'm not leaving you alone."

"Dawnie, I'm tainted," Willow sobbed into Dawn's shoulder, finally giving up on trying to free herself.

"No you're not," Dawn replied simply. "You've made up for everything, Will. You've tried so hard. We forgive you, now come out and be with everybody."

"No!" Willow shrieked, grabbing the front of Dawn's shirt. "No, Dawn, Tara can't be around me! I'll hurt her! I'll hurt all of you! You shouldn't even be here right now!"

Dawn peered at her idol oddly. "Willow Rosenberg, what the hell are you talking about?" she demanded of the older woman.

"Dark Willow, she's inside of me," Willow cried, clutching Dawn closer even though a second ago she had pretty much told the girl to go away. "She said I would hurt everyone, that I _have_ hurt everyone."

"It's in the past, Will," Dawn assured her, rubbing the redhead's back like Willow had once done for her. "That's over now. Those days- that Willow- they're long gone. You're a different person now, and I'm going to get Buffy and Giles. They'll know what to do," Dawn added quickly, noticing that Willow was about to protest.

**-VI-**

Fred almost jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, but then she felt the kiss on her cheek and she knew it was her Wesley. She turned and fell into his embrace, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Would you call me crazy if I told you I was scared?" she whimpered.

Wesley smoothed his hand over her hair and pulled her onto the chaise in the parlor. "No," he answered soothingly. "I'd tell you that I am as well."

"It hurts, Wes," she cried. "Everything hurts right now, like it did when we lost Cordy."

The Brit nodded. "Yes," he murmured to her. "Yes, it does."

"What if I lose you too?" she asked shakily, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her. "I don't want to lose you."

"That's not even possible," he answered. "We'll be alright. Kennedy's plan is as full-proof as any battle plan could possibly be. We just have to defend ourselves long enough for Angel, Buffy, and Faith to take down the Senior Partners."

Fred looked at the amazing man in front of her, so handsome and so full of conviction. All those years she had been looking for this, and it had been right in front of her. Their time together had been too short, it would always be too short, but she knew now that this was what she wanted. She wanted Wesley no matter how long or short their time together would be this time around.

All she really wanted to ask for now was life with him.

She wanted the wedding and the marriage and the kids and she wanted that with Wesley. She could hear church bells and the pitter-patter of tiny feet on the floors of the Hyperion and Aunt Kennedy and Aunt Jillian's advice to them as they grew up. At that moment though, all she wanted was for the battles to be over so she could talk about this with Wesley.

"After all of this is over, do you want to come to Texas with me? I think I need to see my parents for awhile," she offered quietly.

Wesley kissed the top of her head, leaning back into the sofa. "I would love to," he answered. "There's something I really should be needing to ask your father."

Fred looked up at him in confusion. "Oh? And what's that?" she inquired curiously.

He leaned in and kissed her lips gently. "Nothing that I can't tell you later."

**-VII-**

Tara had just left when Savannah came to the doorway, dressed in black and carrying white roses. Kennedy knew immediately what was going on, it was already almost daybreak and the sun would begin to rise soon. Most vampires and demons would be going back into hiding now, but it was still early enough to bury a friend.

"It's time, isn't it?" she questioned the blonde cop.

Savannah nodded solemnly. "Angel just wanted a small group out there, so we don't draw too much attention. The team and Buffy... Faith," she explained.

Kennedy swallow the lump in her throat, standing up and going to change before realizing that she already had earlier in the night. Time had little meaning inside the walls of the hotel. "Jillian?" she asked about her sister.

Savannah took her hand as they left the office, and Kennedy welcomed her touch. "She's staying with Dawn and Nina. Oz promised to keep them all safe."

Kennedy merely nodded defeatedly.

They stood in Westerfield Cemetery, and all was quiet and misty. Kennedy thought that, as she watched Angel, Wesley, and Spike dig up Gunn's old grave, it must have been weird for her brother and Cordy to look at their headstones nearby his. She remembered the fit her mother had thrown that Wesley would not be buried in England.

She looked at her friends and 'family'. Fred stood with Cordy and Doyle, one of the Texan's arms looped around Cordy's waist with her forehead resting on the psychic's shoulder, while Doyle held both crying girls under one arm. Even Buffy and Faith didn't seem to have the normal, palpable space between them.

Kennedy watched as several of them closed their eyes when Angel threw open the coffin that Gunn had originally been buried in. As soon at the casket was opened, Gunn's newest body dissolved into a fine mist and floated down to settle in his old one, which then took on the look of having just been buried again.

"Rest in peace, mate," Spike told him ruefully, closing the top again. He rested his hand on the dirty surface for a few more moments. "You did us proud, Charles Gunn."

"Here, here," Owen agreed regally from beside Jenny, Savannah and Kennedy.

They each stepped forward, grabbing a handful of dirt, saying a few words, and tossing the dirt onto the coffin. Spike, Angel, and Wesley piled the rest of the soil back into the hole, and the congregation trooped back toward the Hyperion.

**-III-**

"When did burying one of our own become a reasonable part of the job description?" Faith wondered aloud as they walked back.

Buffy looked at her worried. "You okay, Faith?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

The 'bad slayer' gave her a weak smile. "Zero by zero, B," she admitted in a sigh. "I liked that one, he was nice. He didn't treat me any different than anyone else. He liked me, but he didn't make a big show out of it. Not many people would've done that for me."

The blonde stopped her with a hand on her arm. "I can do that for you," she offered.

Faith looked pensive for a minute and then, "Nah, B. There's too much water under the bridge now." Buffy couldn't believe how thick and emotional Faith's voice had gotten. "I screwed up way too often with all of you Scoobies. There's no coming back on that. What's done is done, just like it's done for Gunn."

The brunette breathed a heavy sigh, shoving her hands deep into her pockets and hunching her shoulders defensively. "Let's just hope that whatever higher sap who rules this damned world takes it easy on whatever's left of him." Faith started to walk off, but Buffy's voice stopped her.

"I'm here, you know," the other girl called after her. "If it gets to be too much- I'm here. You're one of us, you've earned that place, Faith. You came to Sunnydale looking for forgiveness, and I wasn't ready to give that to you then... but I am now. I forgive you, Faith. I forgive you."

Then Faith did the one thing that Buffy _seriously_ never- under any circumstances- expected. She ran back to Buffy, grabbed the blonde's hand, and walked back to the hotel like that.

"Now, can we _please_ move on?" Buffy demanded as they reached the door.

Faith nodded, stepping back and running her fingers through her hair embarrassedly. "Five by five, B."

**-IV-**

All Xander could think to do to ease Dawn's worry over Willow was to hold her hand. The younger Summers was pacing the length of the office that she shared with Jillian frantically. Giles was no where to be found, Buffy had gone to the cemetery to bury Gunn, and it was all the young woman could to to keep Tara away from Willow, who had flat-out told Dawn that Tara was not to come within spitting distance of her.

So Xander had walked up, taken Dawn's hand and paced with her side-by-side. They were still pacing next to each other when Anya came to the door and smiled nostalgically as she watched them. He gave Dawn's hand a squeeze and looked toward Anya when he caught her gaze.

"I'm leaving," she told them in a quiet but up-beat tone. "I have to go back. There are people to be guarded and watched over and I'm the one to do it."

"It's good that we at least get to say goodbye this time," Dawn said to her peacefully. "We missed you."

"And I missed all of you," Anya replied. "But I have a place in the world again, so I have to go." She hugged the younger girl, then looked at Xander and gestured for him to follow her out into the hallway. "You should be happy," she told him simply when they had stepped away from Dawn. "I want that for you."

"Ahn?"

Anya sighed, knowing that she would have to spell it out for him as per usual. "Be happy with _her_, Xander," Anya order him sternly. "You all still look at her like she's a little kid, but look at her-" Anya turned him so that he was looking into Dawn's office, where she was studying files at her desk and talking on the phone- "she's not little Dawnie anymore. You gave her space and faith to grow into a very smart and very mature adult, and so she did. Love _her_, Xander. That's what I'm saying."

Xander looked at her, a little teary eyed and woeful. "You'll always be 'her', Anya. The One That Got Away," he told the ex-demon. "Thanks for giving me a chance to say goodbye this time."

She waved her hand fleetingly at him. "But of course!" Her face became more pained and serious then. "Take care of them, Xander. Family is important, especially ours. And love Dawn or I will come back and turn you into a warty old man or something." She winked at him, "But that's just par for the course."

Anya kissed him ever so lightly and fleetingly- a goodbye- and then she dissolved into a fine golden light and flitted away.

Xander looked back in at Dawn, who was now jotting notes from a thick leather-bound book and smiled. If Dawn Summers was his fate and his future, then maybe their time ahead wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe The Powers were finally cutting them a little slack, but then again, maybe not. He was confidant that he would be fine either way, as long as there was Dawn.

**-V-**

"So," came a voice from the door, "how bad was it?"

Kennedy looked up to see Jillian standing there. She had a somber, sympathetic expression and a worried gaze. All the older Pryce could do was usher her into the room.

"It was... intense. To say the least," Kennedy said, coming to lean against the front of her desk as usual.

"Apparently the same goes for Rona and Vi," Jillian commented casually. "They finally had words with each other, I think some of them might not have been so great."

"At least everybody else is having a crappy time as well," Kennedy agreed sarcastically.

Jillian looked around before standing up and meandering around her sister's office. "Where's Sav?" she asked innocently.

"Sav went back to her office with Owen," Kennedy explained. "They have some covering our butts to do."

"That's pretty cool off them," Jillian commented casually, but she was trying hard to hide a smirk.

Kennedy ignored it. "What's up?" she asked her sister concernedly.

"I was wondering when this scheme of yours was gonna go down," she replied solemnly. "I'm sorry, I know this is a bad time."

The slayer shook her head. "As soon as Red's back on her feet, we're striking. Angel and Buffy are in agreement," she informed her younger counterpart.

There was an awkward silence between Jillian and Kennedy. "Is JillyBean coming with?" Jillian asked nonchalantly.

Kennedy looked at her younger sister analytically. Jillian was a great fighter, a brave soul, and had Wesley's ruthlessness in battle, but the slayer was still afraid that her enemies would use her love for her sister to their advantage. There was no doubt in Kennedy's mind that all three of the Littles could hold their own, but she knew that the worry would never go away and would be a constant distraction. One she couldn't afford.

"Actually, I have another mission for you and Dawn and Connor," Kennedy told her sister. "I need you guys in London, to find Michael. The guy that helped you find the Avalon Dagger? I have to know what he knows about these weapons."

Jillian put on a dubious expression. "And you want us out of the line of fire," she requested flatly.

"I want you out of the line of _this_ fire," her sister corrected her. "There's no telling what fire you'll be thrown into in London. But yes, I want you out of this one. Jenny, Willow, and Tara can handle the heavy magic, and they've been through this more than you have." Kennedy looked at her younger sister pleadingly, "I don't doubt for a second that you can do this, Jill. In fact, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you can. But put your faith in me, I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing."

Jillian nodded in fierce acceptance, though her eyes showed some doubt and annoyance. The young gypsy put her hand on her sister's shoulders. "I believe in you, Kenn," she said earnestly. "I just pray to The Powers that you have some concrete knowledge as to what you're doing."

Kennedy rested her hands on Jillian's shoulders. "I'm praying too, sis, I really am."


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 14- Fight Of Our Lives

Buffy was hesitant going into Willow's room that evening. Dawn had told her in confidence that Willow was awake. Unfortunately, Buffy was a horrible liar and Tara had caught on pretty quick. Which had led to the first fight that Tara and Buffy had ever had with each other, much less with Dawn who had sided with her sister. In the end, Tara had resigned herself to listening outside the door while Buffy tried to talk sense into Willow.

"Hey, Will," Buffy greeted her softly when the redhead looked up.

Buffy stopped her steps abruptly when she saw Willow cringed and press herself farther back into the wall, as if hoping it would swallow her. The Slayer hadn't expected anything less from her self-persecuting friend, but that didn't mean that she wasn't going to fight the red-haired Wiccan on it.

"Come on, Will, I'm not here to hurt you or anything," Buffy chided her softly.

"It's not me being hurt that I'm afraid of, Buffy," Willow said in a small voice, silent tears slipping down her face. "I'm afraid of hurting everyone I care about again."

Buffy's face suddenly went from heartbroken to determined and outrageous. "No," she said in a dangerously low voice. "Willow, you are _not_ that person anymore and you can't let Amy convince you that you are because then you _will_ be hurting everyone. By pushing us away, Will, that hurts me more than anything else. And the very fact that you're _afraid_ of your power proves that you would never use it against any of us."

"It's too much, Buffy," she explained softly. "It takes me over, it takes me away from you guys."

Buffy went over to sit beside Willow on the bed, taking the redhead's fragile hands. "You are so much stronger than it though, Will," Buffy encouraged her. "You're so much stronger than you used to be."

"I can't leave this room, Buffy," Willow refused, now panicking. "I can't hurt her, not again. Not ever again. I love her too much."

The door banged open suddenly then and both Willow and Buffy whipped their heads around to find Tara standing there, tears already welling in her eyes. Buffy looked at her in complete astonishment, whereas Willow looked horrified and leapt from the bed to the wall farthest from Tara. The redhead shot Buffy a pleading look, but Buffy seemed helpless herself. Shooting Willow an apologetic look, the Slayer started edging toward the door before stepping into the hallway and closing the door after her.

"Tara, please," Willow begged desperately. "I could snap, I could hurt you. You have to understand."

"Willow, stop," Tara commanded her, lifting a hand for emphasis. The blonde's tears fell unwarranted and she brushed at them quickly. "We've talked about this. We've talked about this _a _lot. What is it going to take to convince you that there is no possible way that you could hurt me more than you are right now? It _kills_ me to know that you're struggling with this even after all this time- and that I can't help you." As Tara spoke, she took slow, deliberate steps toward Willow, which the redhead countered evenly. Until she felt the corner where the two walls met, and she realized that she had backed herself into a corner.

"I-I can't," Willow sobbed, pressing herself as far as she could into the crook. "I can't."

Tara stepped forward farther, claiming victory. She reached out and brushed hair away from Willow's face gently, but the other woman whimpered and flinched away all the same. "If you _really_ think that you could ever hurt me again, if you are _certain_ that this darkness inside of you is stronger than our love, if you _know- _beyond any reasonable doubt- that this will only end in pain and heartache, Willow, I will walk out that door," Tara proposed, her voice cracking in several places. "But I _know_ what existing without you is like and I _hate_ it." She took both of Willow's hands in hers, "Will, we belong together. We've made it through heartache and apocalypses and _death_, and there isn't a doubt in my mind that my place is right here with you. Will _always_ be here with you."

Willow cried, sliding down the wall helplessly. They both choked and sobbed and gasped for breath, as Tara kneeled in front of her. Tara took Willow's face in her hands and wiped tears from the smaller Wicca's eyes.

"I love you _so_ much," Willow cried, "I can't hurt you again. Not again, not ever."

Tara looked into Willow's green orbs. "Then don't," she groaned in annoyance at her recurring statement.

Willow's body was wracked with sobs again, but Tara held her tight. "But what if I lose myself? This magic takes me away... from everything I care about. Away from you."

"I'll find you, Willow," Tara swore. "We will _always_ find each other." The blonde caressed Willow's lips wistfully, "You are everything to me. You're my entire world, my entire existence. I'm here because of you, because I belong with you."

"I'm going to Hell for what I've done," Willow cried helplessly.

Tara looked at her softly tracing the shape of Willow-lips. "No, you're not. But even if you do? I'm going with you- you're never going anywhere that I can't come with you. Remember?"

Willow shook her head emphatically. "No, Tara, you belong in Heaven-" Willow began, but her sentence was never finished.

"With you," Tara insisted. "Heaven isn't Heaven without you, Willow. Trust me, I _know_, _remember_?"

Willow held onto Tara tightly as the blonde dragged them up and across the room to sit on Willow's bed. Nothing was ever this safe or peaceful or reassuring, and yet utterly exhilarating and worthwhile, as Tara's embrace. Just her very presence made Willow feel somehow stronger, but the red-haired Wiccan knew in her very soul what that was- Tara made her feel _whole_. Her one and only, her soulmate, her other-half, Willow was incomplete without the beautiful blonde who sat across from her, and that was why it terrified the redhead to think of losing her again. Tara saw the light in Willow when Willow couldn't see the light herself, and Tara brought her back to herself when she had lost the strength and faith to.

"I love you more than life itself, Tara Maclay," Willow said, gripping Tara's face and looking into straight into her face.

Willow gazed into Tara's baby blues, which reflected her own green and collided in an explosion of turquoise and teal, but also in love and angst and hunger and sadness and joy and repentance. Willow saw her entire past, her whole present, and her eternal future in Tara's eyes, and she felt a little bit of hope at that. There would only ever be one person for Willow Rosenberg, and that person was sitting across from her and gazing at her with all the love and care in the world.

"Willow," Tara breathed, leaning into Willow's touch.

She kissed Tara's forehead, feeling tears run down her cheeks. "You're the only one in the world for me, Tara. There will never be another person who can make me feel the way you make me feel and I _love_ you more than my own life and I would give that up for you in half a heartbeat," Willow told her thickly. "I would give you any and all parts of me if you asked."

The backs of Tara's fingers caressed Willow's face. "All I will ever need from you is your heart," she replied softly. "It's all I've ever needed. Just your love."

"Can I love you?" Willow asked hesitantly.

Tara bit her lip and ducked her head, like days long gone. She nodded as she looked back up, a seductive smile playing at those perfect lips, right before they were captured by Willow's and they collided with the mattress.

**-II-**

"I cannot believe she's making us go back to England _again_," Dawn droned as she and Jillian packed hurriedly. "You know," the brunette continued, turning back to her best friend, "I used to think England was so romantic and exotic. Now? Meh."

Jillian just smirked and shook her head at her friend. "So Kennedy's ruined England for you? Because there's still plenty more to see."

Dawn sighed and slumped onto her bed dramatically. "That's not it. It's just... we've trained for this sort of thing for years and now we're not even going into battle and everyone we care about is," she explained lengthily. "It just sucks. And I know that that's not Kennedy's fault. I do, I know that," Dawn added to Jillian's dubious look. "I want to be there with Buffy and Giles and Willow and Tara and Xander."

"So stay," Jillian offered simply.

Dawn, who had continued packing her bags, turned to look at Jillian in astonishment. "What?" she demanded in shock.

Jillian slapped a sweater into her suitcase and groaned exasperatedly, looking around at the youngest Summers. "Dawn, you're my best friend and I love you," the blonde said emphatically, "but you and I _both_ know that your place is here and that no one can ever force you to leave your place." Jillian walked over to Dawn and put both hands on the brunette's shoulders. "Do what feels right," she told her best friend.

Dawn pulled her friend into a tight hug. "You'll be okay?" she asked the young Wyndham-Pryce.

Jillian pulled back to cock an eyebrow at Dawn. "I grew up being bounced back and forth between New York and London, I know that world like you know this one," Jill justified. "Besides, my job is to find Michael, who I've known for years, and Connor will still be with me."

Dawn pulled Jill back into a hug. "You're the best," she told the blonde.

Jillian nodded smugly and smiled. "I know."

**-III-**

"So Jenny, Will and Tara will go in first?" Buffy asked, trying to grasp Kennedy's extremely hard-core and detailed battle plan.

They sat in Kennedy's office as per usual, going over blue print battle plans with Cordelia, Doyle, Angel, Savannah, Owen, and Faith.

"Right," Kennedy confirmed. "They sneak in, do the compact sun spell, and get out for awhile. After they've casted, Rona, Vi, Satsu, Doyle, Cordy and I will run in and hit them with the first attack, which involves a lot of flaming arrows and steel rods from the spot where Savannah and I came in above them." Kennedy circled a place on the drawing of the cavern and indicated a group of triangles that symbolized them. "When the sunlight dusts the vamps and fades, you and Faith and Spike and Angel come in and we run into the real melee with whoever is left."

Angel came in then, pointing to a ruby red diamond and a black hexagon. "This is where Spike's mission is to off McDonald, right?" he inquired, waiting for Kennedy's immediate nod.

"Exactly," Kennedy replied. "That is, if he hasn't already been dusted by Will and Tara. If he has, Spike tries to take down his second in command, who will probably be pretty obvious at that point. We take out MacDonald and the next in line and we've set them back until midnight, so we retreat and Willow and Tara set up a force field to keep them contained."

"And when the big moon rises we all come out to play?" Owen asked eagerly.

Kennedy bit her lip and nodded. "We send in our entire army of girls in then, plus whoever is willing here. They corner them and then Ni and Oz go in phased, to hold those ranks. With that done, we should have enough power to send in Angel, Faith, and Buffy with the power daggers to take out Wolf, Ram, and Hart before they take on full form."

"And afterwards we blow the hell hole to pieces with select dynamite," Cordelia finished, putting the figurative cherry on top.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18-

The first wave of the attack went in like a kamikaze. None of the demons had had any forewarning of Kennedy's ambush, so when two half-demons, a handful of slayers, and three fairly powerful casters came in, to say they were caught off-guard would be an understatement. The mini sun spell was completed in last than a minute, taking out half of McDonald's army and leaving Spike and Angel to run in fiercely.

"I'm going after McDonald," Spike yelled over the war cries.

"Yeah, go for it," Angel invited him, slamming two of the demon's heads together before turning to Jenny, Willow and Tara. "What are you three still doing here? Go before you get hurt!"

"But-" Willow began to protest, but Buffy's voice broke through the skirmish.

Her brown eyes blazed reddish in her anger and effort to keep a seven-foot-tall neon green demon at bay. "Willow! Get the hell out here _now_!" she screamed at her best friend.

The redhead shot a glare back in Buffy's direction but took Tara's hand nonetheless and nodded for Miss Calendar to follow. "Fine! I'm going!" she shouted back over her shoulder.

Kennedy and Satsu suddenly appeared between Buffy Angel suddenly, trying to close off the tunnel before any demons or sorcerers were able to follow the witches. Buffy watched Satsu slice through a Guyuuk demon with very little effort while Kennedy took a blow to the nose before coming back with a roundhouse kick. Angel grimaced at her, but she could tell he still felt confident.

"Remind me again why only half of us are attacking?" Faith yelled loudly.

Kennedy pulled her aside just before a dagger struck the rock behind where the dark slayer had been standing. "_Because_," she snapped, pushing Faith out of the way again and running a necromancer through the stomach before his curse hit her. She leaned closer into Faith and whispered in her ear, "Spike has to take out Lindsey and his successor. The second Blondie Bear does that, we're getting the hell outta here."

The older slayer just nodded and went on fighting, ever watchful for the moment when Spike would do his part and they could run for their lives. She needed to get off the high of killing. And fast.

**-II-**

Jillian walked toward the airport with the crate under her arm, feeling like she was smuggling weapons into The States. Mostly because, well, she was. Not only was she smuggling weapons, she was smuggling _mystical_ weapons and she had brought Connor Angel and Michael Grover into it.

"I got you guys a sure-fire way home," Michael told them proudly. "Clear pass through airport security."

The two Littles stopped dead in their tracks. "How?" Connor asked suspiciously. He didn't trust these Watcher-types. None except for Jillian, who was the golden rule exception.

Michael nodded to a chopper with its blades spinning in the middle of a field beside the airport base. A man stood outside the helicopter and he lifted his sunglasses from his eyes at their approach.

"Agent Finn," Michael greeted the older man, clasping the commando's hand. "Good to see you, sport." Michael turned to them and nodded his head at Agent Finn. "Connor, Jillian, this is Agent Riley Finn of the U.S. Covert-Ops. Riley, this is Jillian Wyndham-Pryce and Connor Angel."

"You taking us up?" Jillian called over the sound of the blades.

"All the way to L.A., right?" Riley asked, waiting for their nods before looking at Connor. "Your old man is Angel? _The_ Angel?"

Connor nodded. "We need to get home," he said. He nodded to the crate that Jillian carried, "With these."

Riley smirked. "Not a problem, Junior," he replied playfully. "Let's get you two back to the Hyperion. Buffy and Angel will be needing those."

The two laughed nervously and Jillian turned back to Michael. "Thank you," she said, embracing him tightly. "For everything. I'm eternally in your debt."

Michael chuckled, hugging her back. "How about the next time we see each other, you take me out to dinner and we just call it even, eh?" he suggested. "It's much less love slave-like."

"Definitely," she answered, pulling back and allowing Connor and Michael to shake hands.

Then the vampire-hybrid and gypsy climbed into the chopper, followed by Riley Finn, and started their time-sensitive journey home.

**-III-**

Spike had been in a lot of battles before. Bloody hell, he had started most of them and won, had even died in one at one point, but he had never seen a battle quite like this. No one was certain who would win. The other side had just as good a chance as they did.

The next few moments, after he had left Angel and Buffy behind, would replay in his head over and over for months to come, even though he would remember everything as a blur. His target and second-in-command pacing in a wrought balcony of red stone above him, Lindsay's eyes flashing as Spike caught sight of him, the vampire's blade poised to take off McDonald's head before he spoke.

"You can't win. Why even try, Spike?" Lindsay's eyes flashed malevolently again, as he breathed in deeply. The former-lawyer seemed to know that this was his final breath.

"So I can decapitate sniveling prats like yourself," Spike replied gamely, before swinging his sword clean through McDonald's neck.

He turned to Lindsay's second, grinning wickedly as he saw the sorry ponce who came next in the food chain. The man didn't look any more than twenty or twenty-one, no more than a misled Adonis, but the red gleam in his eyes told Spike that he was too hopped up on magic to think straight.

"You're a right young bloke, aren't ya?" Spike taunted him. "Thinks he's a big-shot just 'cause he's got some Dark magic. Well, let me tell _you_ about magical addictions, _sonny boy_- they ain't very fetching."

He reached forward with vampiric reflexes and snatched the staff that the young man had been using. Instantly, the boy's demeanor changed as he found the tip of a glinting blade at his throat and he held his hands up in surrender, closing his eyes and waiting for death. Death, however, never came from the vampire holding the sword.

Spike gave the young man a suspicious look. "What's your name, mate?" he asked with a hint of curiosity.

The man opened his eyes and stared at Spike incredulously. "N-Nathaniel," he answered. His face crumpled. "Please, I don't want to die."

Something inside of the bleach-blonde vamp caused him to believe Nathaniel, and the man's fear and true innocence. He pointed to the gap from which their ambush had come. "You take that tunnel, you go into the sewer drains, you follow the magic trail of the witches back. You do anything other than that and I will hunt you down like a dog and make you _wish_ I had killed you here and now," Spike told him, giving him a push toward the crevice.

He turned to the scene below him after Nathaniel had disappeared and saw that they had maybe a fifty-fifty chance of all making it out of this alive. That was not one he was willing to push by staying here a moment longer, so he whistled down to them.

"Oi! Fall back!" he commanded his allies in a shout. "Let's go! Move it!"

They flooded back into the tunnels and back to home base.

**-IV-**

Jenny, Willow, and Tara appeared from the sewer ducts just as quickly as they had disappeared into them. Giles, Wesley, and Owen helped the women out one by one, until they were safe inside the Hyperion once again.

"Are you guys okay?" Nina asked immediately. The blonde werewolf gestured for them all to sit down, before taking a seat herself. "Tough spell?"

Willow smiled giddily. "I didn't go Dark," she sighed with relief. She rested her head on the wing of the chair, closing her eyes, and smiled. "I feel like I swallowed a pound on ground chalk, but I didn't go Dark and I dusted those vamp-idiots like it was nobody's business."

Her mentor, Giles, smiled at her fondly. "You must be quite tired, Willow," he remarked, "but I am extremely proud of you."

The redhead hummed softly before muttering, "thanks, Giles," and dozing off.

Their small group smiled at the witch fondly, before looking to the other witches. Xander slumped down protectively in front of the chair holding a sleeping Willow and rested his head against her leg. Giles seemed to gravitate subconsciously toward Jenny, while Wesley slung an arm over Fred's shoulders, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head. Nina, Dawn, and Tara stared off, worrying over their friends and family members.

Then the red-eyed boy appeared from the sewer well with a wild fear on his face.

-**V-**

"Time check?" Connor asked Jillian in the back of the helicopter. He held her hand tightly, each with their other arm clutching the crate possessively. This small gesture would have embarrassed them both, had it not been for their mutual understanding of each other's complete case of the wiggins.

Jillian lifted her arm to check her watch. "Seventeen-forty," she replied, a hint of frustration breaking through her mask of indifference. "We have fifteen minutes."

"Don't worry, we'll have you there by eighteen-hundred hours," Sam, Riley's wife, assured them from the pilot's seat.

The two remained silent for awhile, each getting more uneasy as the chopper flew closer to the Hyperion. Jillian tapped the top of the case and looked to Connor.

"Think they'll work?" she asked nervously. "I mean, I can't stand to think that they'll fail when Angel needs them the most, or Faith or Buffy for that matter."

"And we won't know until one of them tries to stab someone," Connor agreed darkly. "I believe we might have gotten ourselves in a little deep, JillyBean."

Jillian sighed heavily and leaned her head on Connor's shoulder, despite their bulky headgear. "Then, I guess, all we can do is hope," she concluded, as the hotel came into sight.

Riley turned to look at them, grinning like a schoolboy. "Home Sweet Hell," he remarked dryly, trying to lighten his younger companions' moods.

Sam went about landing the copter on the rooftop and she hadn't so much as finished removing her sunglasses before Jillian and Connor were bailing out of the machine. Connor took over carrying the crate as the bolted down the staircase ahead of the two commandos. All Connor could think about was seeing his father alive, and Jillian's only thought was of Kennedy and Wes.

They burst in to the lobby, checking the faces around the room- and seeing the unfamiliar one. He looked at Jillian with powerful contempt and his eyes narrowed. I horrid hiss escaped his lips as black flames licked his already blood-red eyes.

"Witch," he sneered, starting toward her before Connor stepped in front of her.

The young vampire-child landed a blow to the strangers jaw. "You stay away from her!" he yelled, running forward to snatch the man by the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall.

"Connor!" Fred warned him, rushing toward her surrogate nephew. She laid her hand on Connor's shoulder comfortingly.

The stranger caught another blow to the head from the vampire-child. "I don't know how the hell you got in here but I swear if you lay a hand on my family, so help me god, I _will_ kill you," Connor threatened angrily, before dropping the young man to the floor and allowing Fred to pull him back.

"Don't kill him! I sent him!" Spike yelled from behind them. He looked at Giles and Willow, and said, "he just needs a good detox is all. We'll send him to Westbury. Should be fine after that."

Willow stared at him incredulously, mouthing gaping as the others came into the foyer. "Spike! Are you insane? He could have killed someone! _We_ could have killed _him_!" she yelled.

Spike stopped short. "Well, granted this wasn't my most well thought out plan, but-"

"I beg of you to tell me which of your plans are thought out, Spike?" Giles inquired, taking his glasses off his face.

There was a moment of awkward silence, in which they all casted their eyes downward and Jillian shuffled her feet. It was the movement of the British girl that got everyone's attention, but it took a second for them to all process the fact that their two previously absent Littles were now standing in the foyer with a wooden crate full of powerful mystical weapons. Dawn seemed to catch this first.

"You guys!" she yelled happily, throwing herself into their open arms. "I'm glad you're back and..."- she then caught sight of the two military figures standing awkwardly behind her friends- "Riley? Sam?" Dawn let her friends go and ran over to hug her sister's ex-boyfriend and his wife. "Oh my god! What are you guys doing here?"

"I take it that you know our partners-in-crime?" Jillian asked, watching the rest of the group for their own reactions.

Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Giles stepped forward, each hugging Riley and then Sam. The Slayer looked at her college boyfriend, and at his wife- at the incredible pair they made, both for each other and as her friends. Leave it to Riley and Sam Finn to come just in the nick of time.

"It's good to see you guys," the blonde told them happily. She looked at Jillian and Connor, then back to Agent Finn. "I'm guessing you helped them smuggle our tools across the borders?"

"You'd be guessing right," Sam answered. She looked at her two passengers. "Who better to smuggle mystical weapons than a vampire-child, a gypsy, and two Initiative Agents, huh?"

"We appreciate the help," Angel said, finally stepping forward. He looked at Riley solemnly, offering out his hand and trying to move pass their old harsh feelings. "And thank you, for looking after my son and Jillian."

Riley deliberated, then shook Angel's hand. "No problem, but what kind of operation are you running here, anyway?" he asked.

"My operation," Kennedy answered, stepping forth after Angel. "Evil's trying to turn our world into theirs, go back to the way it was before humans took over. We're stopping them."

Sam and Riley looked at each other before looking back to Kennedy. They didn't say anything, just nodded and followed her lead.

**-VI-**

"So... Oz, you really think you can control the wolf long enough?" Riley asked him companionably. They had already bonded over breaking Oz out of the Initiative years ago, so their banter was more natural now.

The werewolf looked at Nina and then at Kennedy. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But it's worth a try."

"If Kennedy's willing to risk it..." Nina began, "then it's worth it." She met the slayer's eyes and smiled. "I trust my best friend's judgment, even if she has been known to be completely and utterly insane at times. She's never made a plan that hasn't worked yet."

Kennedy nodded gratefully at Nina, but her entire body was tight with tension. "Thanks, Ni. Let's just hope that my first plan to fail, isn't this one," she answered, her voice quiet and apprehensive. She looked at the two soldiers in the room, then at the LAPD detectives, and at her family. "We're taking a huge risk," she admitted. "I know that, but I trust Oz and Nina with my life and with the lives of my family. I wouldn't ask this of them if I didn't believe in them. And I wouldn't be putting my baby sister in danger, if I didn't know that the rest of us could too."

Jenny stood up then, followed by Jillian, Dawn and Connor, the four making a united front together. "Most of you don't know this, because I haven't said anything yet, but I've known Kennedy her entire life, because she's my goddaughter," Jenny spoke up. "I believe in her, and I believe in what she can do. The same way I believe in Wesley and Jillian and Angel and Buffy and Willow and all of you."

"Wait a minute!" Buffy said, holding her hands up. "You're saying... you're _related_ to Kennedy?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Jenny answered.

Giles began cleaning his glasses furiously. "Yes, well, this is a bit of a surprise. However, what Jenny says makes a lot of sense. I don't think any of us doubt Kennedy's planning and execution, but our adversaries are... unpredictable at best."

"Okay guys!" Kennedy yelled, calling for order. She glared at her sister and godmother and they sat down, along with Giles, Buffy, Dawn, and Connor. "Look, I'm saying we're going to be able to take out this whole damn army today- that's clearly impossible. What I _am_ saying, is that we hold off this army long enough for Faith, Buffy, and Angel to take out the Senior Partners. Preferably _before_ they return entirely to this plain of existence."


End file.
